Two Hearts
by kbrand5333
Summary: Episode 5x09, "With All My Heart," through the end of the series, if I had been allowed to write it. Sadly, no one called me.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: In another of my attempts to fix Merlin Series 5, I am re-writing episode 9, "With All My Heart." Some elements will be the same as they appear in****the show, but most will be different. My version may extend past that episode as well.**

"**Dreams of a Queen" was my way of taking what the producers gave us and making it into something tolerable. This story is my way of scrapping the last 1/4****th**** of the series and doing what, in my opinion,**_** should**_** have been done.**

"If I lose her, I lose everything," Arthur whispers. He feels like all the air has been sucked from his lungs. He feels like someone has punched him in the gut with a fist the size of a boulder. He feels like emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground.

Betrayed. Again. By the person who can hurt him the most.

If Arthur Pendragon harbored any thoughts about possible goodness lingering within his half-sister, Morgana, they have all been quite effectively dashed.

"Arthur, we need to go before we are discovered," Merlin prompts, snapping him from his stupor.

Arthur ignores him, his expression closed off and eyes fixed on the two women. His hand slowly reaches for his sword.

"No," Merlin's hand on his arm stills him. "If you kill Morgana, you won't get Gwen back. _Come._"

Arthur follows Merlin, his feet stepping one after the other without thought, without purpose, two questions pounding in his head over and over.

_How?_

_ Why?_

He knows the 'why'. He has a pretty good idea about the 'how' as well.

But, knowing these things doesn't make the situation any better. It doesn't erase the pain, which feels like a hundred swords piercing his heart.

His love, his wife, his Guinevere, made into a puppet by Morgana.

"How long have you known?" Arthur quietly asks once they are far enough away from the women.

"Since you were poisoned," Merlin answers.

Arthur stops walking. "That was over a week ago! Why didn't you say anything?"

Merlin levels him with a look. "Would you have believed me? On my word alone?"

Arthur opens his mouth to answer "yes," but a raised eyebrow from Merlin stops the word before it exits his mouth. He frowns. "And that attempt on my life during the Sarrum's visit?" he asks instead.

Merlin nods, confirming Gwen-not-Gwen was behind it. "Come on. We need to talk to Gaius."

Arthur falls into step beside Merlin.

"Every time I've been missing during the last few days…" Merlin starts.

"You've been following Guinevere," Arthur finishes.

"Yes. Learning her patterns. Finding out to where she's been sneaking off when she says she's going to visit a sick citizen or 'just be alone to think about Elyan'. I was watching her every move because I knew you needed proof."

"You're sure she never saw you?" Arthur asks, skeptical. Merlin nods. "Stealth has never been a strong suit of yours," he adds.

"You'd be surprised," Merlin answers. His voice comes out a little more foreboding than he intends, so as a distraction, he intentionally trips.

"Honestly," Arthur huffs.

They walk in silence the rest of the way to the castle.

"Merlin," Arthur says, just outside the doors, "thank you. I know this couldn't have been easy."

"You're welcome, Sire," Merlin says. He quickly ducks his head and goes inside. _We'll see just how grateful he truly is._

xXx

"What can be done?" Arthur asks, walking with Merlin through the corridors. Merlin grabs his elbow and pulls him in the direction of Gaius' quarters instead of the royal chambers. "Oh... good idea," Arthur mutters. He does not know when Guinevere will return from her rendezvous and is in no frame of mind to see her.

"Gaius and I have been doing some research," Merlin says. He opens the door and Arthur steps inside.

"Ah," Gaius says, hearing them enter. He turns around and sees their grim faces. "So, it is true," he sighs.

Arthur sinks into a chair, covering his face with his hands, exhausted and heartsick. Merlin pours some water into a mug and places it on the table beside Arthur.

A couple of silent, tense minutes later, Arthur lifts his head. "How do we bring her back?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically weak. "Merlin said you've been doing some research?" He looks hopefully at Gaius.

Gaius purses his lips and exchanges a meaningful look with Merlin. Then, he walks over and sits in the chair situated in front of Arthur. He sighs heavily. "Sire, as you know, Morgana is a High Priestess of the Old Religion," Gaius starts. "And, as such, she is one of only two remaining people who are truly well-versed in the Old Ways. When I was younger, I learned of a... a horrible spell called the _Teina Diaga._ It was taught only to female practitioners, so my knowledge of it is limited."

"Please. Tell me what you know," Arthur says. He finally reaches over and takes a drink of the water Merlin has poured for him. He glances up and sees his servant hovering in the background, thoughtfully frowning.

"It was an ancient ritual involving the use of mandrake roots to torture the victim's mind until there was almost nothing left. When it was over, the victim's will was not his own. Or, in this case, _her_ own. Guinevere's body has become a nearly-empty vessel, filled with Morgana's will."

Arthur pales and hangs his head, sick with the thought of the torture his beloved wife had endured at the hands of his sister. _They were friends once. How could she do this?_ "Do you know how to reverse this?" he asks, not looking up. His tone is bleak.

Gaius says nothing for a long minute. "I do not."

The three men sit in silence, hopelessness hanging heavily in the air. Without warning, Arthur slams his fist on the tabletop, causing some water to leap out of his mug.

"What if I told you I can help Gwen?" Merlin says. His voice is low, but it rings out in the quiet room.

Gaius suddenly turns and looks at Merlin, shocked. "Merlin, no..."

"This is no time for jokes, Merlin," Arthur snaps.

"I'm not joking."

"_What_ are you talking about then?" Arthur asks.

"Merlin..." Gaius pleads, standing and crossing to him. "This is the worst possible time," he whispers.

"I know. But, you know as well as I do I'm the only one who can do this... I just have to figure out how," Merlin says. He steps around Gaius and moves to sit in front of Arthur.

"Merlin, what nonsense are you talking about? _You_ can help Guinevere?"

"Yes, Arthur, I think I can. I have to find out exactly _how,_ but... I may be the only person who _can_ help her."

Arthur's brow knits in confusion. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I know this is an awful time to tell you, but... I no longer have a choice. I can _help_ Gwen. I can bring her back. I'm the only one who can..."

"Merlin!" Arthur yells, frustrated. "Get to the point!"

"I'm a sorcerer, all right?" Merlin yells back. It is deathly silent for a few seconds. Then, he continues in a softer tone, looking at his feet. "I have _magic,_ Arthur. I was born with it." Merlin takes a deep breath. "And, I've been using it for years, always to help you."

Gaius walks over. Merlin is still looking down. Gaius hears him quietly sniffle and sees his hand come up to swipe his face. Arthur's face is a mask of disbelief and confusion, his eyes flicking between Merlin and Gaius.

"Sire, what Merlin says is—"

"You knew," Arthur says incredulously, looking at Gaius.

"Yes, Sire. I am sorry, but... I made a promise to his mother, and..."

"So, _both of you_ have been lying to me for close to ten years now." Arthur's voice wavers slightly as he struggles to absorb the second bomb dropped on him tonight.

"What would you have us do, Arthur?" Merlin asks, looking up. "Magic is against the laws of this land. So, you can throw me in the dungeons if you wish, execute me if you must, but I'll be of no help to you if you do," Merlin's voice is steady, but his face is pained and Gaius fully realizes exactly how heavy this years-long burden has been for Merlin to bear.

Arthur finally looks at him and Merlin almost wishes he hadn't. "Show me," he says, his voice cold, emotionless.

"Sh-show you?"

Arthur leans back in his chair, his face distant, almost arrogant. "Yes. _If_ you're a sorcerer, which I'm only choosing to consider because I know you _wouldn't_ joke about something this serious involving my wife, I still want proof. Show me something."

Merlin looks at Gaius, who simply shrugs. Then, he looks around and sees the spilled water on the table. He fixes the small puddle in his gaze, his eyes flash, and the water rises from the table. It is a transparent orb shimmering in the candlelight, hovering in the air. Then, the liquid pours back into the mug, delicately trickling in like an inverted teardrop.

Arthur stares at the mug. Then, he looks at Merlin. His face is like stone, but his eyes are filled with pain. Merlin swallows, waiting for the explosion. _The last time I saw Arthur this upset was when he banished Gwen._

"Arthur," he calmly says, "I'm still the same person I've always b—"

Arthur leaps out of his chair with a roar and flips the table over on its side. Pots and vials crash to the floor and his mug flies in a trajectory across the room. Water, herbs and the gods only know what else are everywhere. Merlin jumps to his feet and Gaius steps back, eyes wide with surprise and concern.

"Don't!" he yells. "Just— don't." Arthur holds his hand up. "Don't you _dare_ tell me you're the same person! I don't... I can't... _Lies,_ Merlin! All around me, all the time! Morgana, Agravaine, my father, Guinevere... now, you? _You,_ Merlin? And you, Gaius?" He turns his gaze to Gaius, who simply drops his head. He knows there is nothing he can say in his defense that hasn't already been stated.

Arthur picks up the chair in which he was sitting and throws it hard on the ground. It splinters into several pieces.

A knock sounds at the door. Gaius rushes to answer, only opening the door as much as necessary.

"Is all well, Gaius? I heard a crash. And just now, another," Sir Percival asks, trying to peek through the opening.

"Yes, yes, just a little accident, Percival, thank you for your concern. No one is injured. All is well," Gaius answers.

"Are you certain? Shall I send someone to assist you in cleaning up?" the knight asks.

"No, no, it's fine. Merlin's here," Gaius says.

"Ah. Very well. Good evening, then."

"Good night," Gaius says.

As he closes the door, he clearly hears Percival muttering to himself, "Strange night..."

When Gaius turns around, he sees Arthur and Merlin have not moved, still standing about ten feet apart, facing each other. Arthur is red-faced and trembling, regarding Merlin with the wary anger of a cornered predator. Merlin is breathing hard, but stands his ground, holding Arthur's murderous gaze.

"All..." Arthur's glare intensifies, and Merlin briefly falters, then soldiers on. "All I want is to bring her back to you. Restore her to herself. I love Gwen like a sister, you know that, and it's killing me almost as much as it's killing you to know she's under Morgana's control," Merlin says. His heart is pounding, but he knows he must stand his ground or Gwen is lost to them forever. And, he cannot allow that to happen to Arthur, or to Gwen. Not when he can do something to make it right again.

"You have no idea how I feel," Arthur growls. He isn't yelling anymore, but his voice is low and tremulous, as though he's just barely hanging on to his self-control.

"I know _exactly_ how you feel and you know it," Merlin snaps, taking a step forward. "I may be your servant, but I'm also the closest thing you have to a friend, a brother, even. At least, I was up to about five minutes ago," he sighs. "Gwen is your compass, Arthur, and now that you know she's not herself, you feel lost. Adrift in a sea of pain with no one to show you the way. You also feel like you've been stabbed in the heart."

For a moment, Arthur says nothing, not acknowledging Merlin is precisely correct. "You are _not_ my brother," he spits. "My brother would not betray me this way. My brother would not stomp on my heart after it's just been torn from my chest," he growls, gathering a head of steam. He starts moving forward. "My _brother_ would not have spent the last ten years of his life _constantly lying to me!_" he roars, hurtling towards Merlin.

"Damn it, Arthur, throw me in the dungeon if you must, but let me do what _I_ must to bring Guinevere back to you!" Merlin sharply says, holding his ground. He doesn't budge. Does not even flinch as the king charges at him.

Arthur stops abruptly, almost physically struck by Merlin's words. _Guinevere. This is about Guinevere._ His face is still tight with anger, only now, a tear slips out and rolls down his cheek. He furiously swipes it away.

"Arthur," Merlin continues, "I know how angry you are. But, think of Gwen. Your Guinevere. You can't lose her, not again."

Gaius' eyes widen in surprise at Merlin's audacity. The queen's banishment is the one topic that is never discussed. Ever.

"You are already on extremely thin ice, Merlin..." Arthur warns.

"So, kill me then," Merlin says, stepping even closer to Arthur. "Kill me and you won't get your wife back. When you lost her last time, it nearly broke you. No one knows that more than me. You can deny it all you want, but you know perfectly well that I'm right. You _need_ Guinevere. We all do. Like we said when we went to rescue her: she's our queen, our friend, our sister." A few tears slip from Merlin's eyes now and he allows them to fall unchecked. He doesn't care. "Until we lift this curse, you need me, too."

"Don't you dare ask me to trust you, Merlin. Not now," Arthur says. "You know how much pain the use of magic has caused in my life. How many lives it has taken from me."

"I do know, Arthur, and I hate to say this, but you don't really have a choice. You're going to lose Gwen because of magic as well if you don't let me use _my_ magic to _save _her. Sorcery must be fought with sorcery. I am the only person strong enough to bring her back to you who is also _willing _to help you."

Arthur ponders his words, conflicted. _ Merlin's right. I'll be breaking my own laws, but without Guinevere..._His skepticism returning, Arthur asks, "You're that powerful? _You?_"

"Arthur," Gaius quietly says, stepping over, "you know my history. I'm an old man and have experienced many things. Believe me when I say Merlin is, without question, the most powerful sorcerer I have ever seen."

Arthur stares at Merlin a moment, then looks at Gaius. "More powerful than Morgana?"

"I believe so," Gaius says. "Merlin doesn't always believe in his own abilities, but... the things I have seen him accomplish, Sire..."

Arthur holds his hands up, walking away from them. "Enough. Enough... I can't... I can't take any more... _secrets_ tonight."

Gaius can see Merlin is getting as frustrated with Arthur as Arthur is with him and decides to try a different approach. "Know this, my lord: if not for Merlin, you would have been killed many times by now," Gaius says.

"I've only ever used my magic to help you, Arthur. To protect you. Every time I've said I was protecting you or would protect you, you always laughed it off, but... you have no idea how true those words really were." Merlin walks over to Arthur, standing behind him. "This is my destiny, just as it is _your_ destiny to be a great king. I didn't choose this path any more than you chose yours. I have devoted my life to your service, Arthur. That includes protecting those you love. Like Guinevere."

Arthur turns around and looks at Merlin. Most of the anger has melted, but the hurt is still very much present. He sighs heavily, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. _I cannot process all of __t__his right now. Guinevere. We need to__help Guinevere._ "What do we need to do?" he asks, his face grim.

Merlin looks at Gaius, then back at Arthur. "I don't know... yet."

Arthur makes an exasperated sound, throws his hands up, and stalks away.

"But, he can find out," Gaius chimes in. "As I said, Morgana is one of two women well-versed in the old ways. Merlin knows where the other can be found."

Merlin looks up. "I do?"

"You do. And she will not be pleased to see you, I'm afraid."

"Who?" asks Arthur, turning around. "Who is this sorceress?"

Merlin sighs. "The Dochraid. She's a... Gaius, what is she?"

"She is a powerful witch and supporter of the return of the Old Ways. She will not give her help willingly."

"Of course," Arthur says, slumping into the unbroken chair.

"I'll do what I have to in order to save Gwen, Arthur," Merlin says. "I do not fear the Dochraid. I will leave at first light and not return until I know how to break the spell holding Gwen captive."

Arthur contemplates Merlin another moment, then stands, walking to the door. He pauses and turns. "So we're clear: I'm doing this for Guinevere. The topic of your deceit – and yours," he says, raising an eyebrow at Gaius, "_will_ be addressed. _After_ my wife is safely returned to herself."

"Understood," Merlin says and Gaius nods.

Arthur strides to the door, then turns back. "Merlin."

"Yes, my lord?"

"If you fail, it's your head."

"Yes, my lord."

xXx

Arthur takes the longest route possible back to the royal chambers, heartsick and reeling from all that he has learned tonight.

He mindlessly walks until he faces a dead end, not realizing his feet have carried him there. He turns and continues walking, no longer with a destination, but avoiding everyone, turning down empty corridors whenever he hears footsteps.

When he finally reaches his rooms, he quietly slips inside, praying Guinevere is already in bed. He doesn't much care if she's actually sleeping or feigning sleep, so long as he doesn't have to face her. He's so distressed right now he wouldn't be able to keep it from her. _Even enchanted, she can still read me like a book._

The room is silent apart from the soft crackle of dying embers in the fireplace. He sees Guinevere's still shape in bed and softly exhales, relieved. He slides his feet out of his boots and quietly changes into his sleepwear.

_I won't rest much. How can I sleep beside someone who wants me dead? She could smother me with a pillow while I sleep._

He pauses at the bedside, gazing down at her, his chest tight. His heart feels like it is knotted together with his stomach. _She looks so innocent, so perfect. I cannot believe... no, remember it's not _truly _her. Morgana is ruling her mind._ He thumbs away another errant tear and slips into bed as gently as he can, trying not to jostle her.

"Arthur?" her soft voice interrupts his thoughts. "Where were you?" She sounds like she has just woken, but Arthur now knows she is an excellent actress. He has no way of knowing if she was actually asleep or not.

"There was a matter with a prisoner that needed attention," Arthur lies. "Nothing with which you need to be concerned." He tries to keep his voice gentle, to not give away the deep hurt he is feeling.

"At this hour?"

"Unfortunately, I don't get to stop being king because the sun goes down," he answers.

Guinevere rolls over and cuddles against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Arthur tries not to stiffen, willing his body to be relaxed, as if his wife isn't the soulless puppet of his evil half-sister. After a moment's hesitation, he even wraps his arm around her small shoulders, like he always does.

"All right," she mumbles sleepily. "Love you," she says.

Her words cut him deeper than any blade, but he answers, "I love you, too, Guinevere."

Guinevere's words may be false right now, but Arthur's are as true as ever.

Arthur spends the rest of the night pondering the canopy over their bed, wide awake, one thought playing over and over in his head.

_ I need her back. Whatever the cost._


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Arthur watches Merlin ride off through the courtyard. Merlin had shrewdly sent George in his stead to serve Arthur this morning, which only made Arthur more cross. He didn't really want to see Merlin, but the knowledge that Merlin was _mindful_ of this fact only fueled his anger.

When Guinevere asked after Merlin's whereabouts, George simply replied, "Gaius has informed me that Merlin is ill this morning, my lady. Would you care for more fruit?"

All Arthur could think was _There goes Gaius, lying for Merlin again._

Arthur had been awake all night, uneasy, while Guinevere slept peacefully on his shoulder, her arm slung across his stomach, her leg hooked over one of his. As she often does. This morning, he is tired, cranky, and anxious. Also, he isn't disguising it very well.

"Arthur, you look exhausted. Are you taking ill as well? Perhaps you have been affected by whatever has Merlin under the weather. The two of you are together so often, it would make sense," Guinevere said after breakfast, walking around the table to where Arthur is sitting and brooding over his breakfast. She crouches beside his chair and takes his hand.

"Perhaps," Arthur answers noncommittally, forcing himself not to recoil from her touch. _Jumpy. Not good._ "There are some matters to which I must attend this morning," he says, standing.

"Are you sure that's wise? If you aren't well, maybe you should stay here and rest," she suggests and for the first time, Arthur notices the slight difference in his wife's demeanor. _She's more abrupt. Her innate gentility suddenly seems forc__ed__._ It breaks his heart.

"I'm all right," he says, a wave of pity washing over him. _She's in there somewhere. I know she is. Gaius said she was only mostly gone._ He steps over and wraps his arms around his wife. She startles momentarily, then relaxes into his arms. "I love you so much, Guinevere," he says, resting his cheek against her head.

"Arthur?" she asks, wondering what prompted this behavior.

He loosens his hold on her, kisses her forehead (he cannot bring himself to kiss her lips), and heads out the door.

Arthur walks through the castle, lost in an internal debate. He knows what he needs to do. He knows to whom he needs to speak. But, he cannot make his feet carry him there just yet.

Instead, he finds Sir Leon and pulls him into a secluded room.

"Sire, is something wrong?" Leon asks, looking puzzled. "I was just about to—"

"Yes, Leon, there is something _very_ wrong," Arthur says. "But, I don't have time to explain right now. I need you to change the route for the planned levy collection. Change it completely. Do not travel any of the currently planned roads. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord, but surely that will lengthen the trip..."

"I don't care. Make only one map and keep it on your person at all times. Tell no one until the party departs and then, only tell Sir Bors," Arthur says.

"Sir Bors? But, I—" Leon asks, growing more confused.

"Once Bors has the route committed to memory, burn the map," Arthur continues, cutting him off. He sighs. "I need you to remain here instead, sorry. I... Guinevere and I may not be available during the next few days and I'll need you to handle things here while we are... busy," Arthur explains. "I... I am not yet sure of all the details which is why I'm being intentionally vague. I will tell you more when I know more."

"Yes, Sire. Of course," Leon nods. He follows Arthur to the door.

"Leon," Arthur says, stopping, "we have seen much together, you and I."

"Yes," Leon agrees.

"I want you to know how much I value your loyalty over the years. I have so few people I can trust and even fewer I can call 'friend'."

Leon smiles, touched though a little puzzled. "Um, thank you, my lord. You know you can always count on me."

"I realize that. But, I wasn't sure if you knew how much I appreciate it." Arthur nods at him once, turns to leave, then pauses once again. "One more thing. This is very important and _very_ sensitive."

"My lord?" Leon asks.

Arthur swallows hard, conflict clear on his face. "Have the queen followed. She is not to know under _any_ circumstance. Appoint one person to keep her in his sights at all times. Hopefully, just for today."

"But…?"

"I promise I will explain later," Arthur says.

"Is she in danger?" Leon asks.

"Yes," Arthur answers, his face deadly serious. "From herself."

Leon looks as shocked as Arthur has ever seen him. "Do… do you have a recommendation for whom to assign this task?"

Arthur pauses a moment. _Percival is too large. Gwaine is too noisy. Elyan would have been perfect, but…_ "Mordred. He's small and too new to arouse much suspicion. Impress upon him the delicacy of the situation any way you can. He can _not_ be seen. I daresay his own life would be at risk if she even suspects he is tailing her."

"Yes, my lord," Leon says.

Arthur sweeps from the room. Leon follows a moment later, confused but resolute. He doesn't know exactly what is going on, but is well aware that Gwen is in some kind of danger. _Th__is__ will not stand._

Those details dealt with, Arthur takes a deep breath and continues to Gaius' chambers. He is still angry with Gaius for lying to him, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he cannot really blame the old physician for his actions. _He's Merlin's guardian. Of course he's going to protect him even if he hadn't promised Merlin's mother. He's the only father figure Merlin has had_ _as far as I know. Who among us hasn't told at least one lie to protect a loved one?_

He knocks on Gaius' door, then opens it unbidden.

"Sire," Gaius greets hesitantly. "I... I must say I am surprised to see you this morning."

Arthur looks around the physician's quarters. The chair he smashed is restored. The table set to rights and all the items that crashed to the floor, scattered or broken or both, are back in their places, whole and perfect.

"It... it is a handy talent our Merlin has," Gaius carefully says.

"So I see," Arthur answers grimly. He sits in the chair. "It _is_ true then. I didn't dream everything that happened last night."

"I'm afraid not, Arthur," Gaius answers. He walks over and sits across from the young king. "For what it's worth, it was never my intention to deceive you and I am sorry."

"Thank you," Arthur says. "I do understand why you kept his secret. I did a lot of thinking last night."

Gaius raises an eyebrow. "I daresay that is because you did _not_ do a lot of sleeping last night," he assesses.

"I didn't sleep at all," Arthur sighs. "How can I sleep when the woman who shares my bed wants me dead?"

"Indeed, my lord," Gaius nods, frowning.

"And there's also the matter of Merlin." Arthur leans back in his chair. "I... I do not know what to do, Gaius. Usually, when I am struggling, Guinevere gives me counsel. Or Merlin."

Gaius nods again. He takes no offense at being Arthur's third choice. "Arthur, everything Merlin told you last night is completely true. He is still the same good-hearted, slightly clumsy person we know and love. You cannot know how he has struggled with this secret. How difficult it has been for him to keep it hidden, especially from you. Arthur, Merlin didn't even tell_ me_ when he first arrived. I found out quite by accident."

Arthur's eyebrows rise, surprised. "Truly?"

Gaius nods. "Sire, he saved my life. It was the first thing Merlin did when he walked through those doors. If he hadn't used his magic to catch me, I would have fallen to my death from there." He points to the balcony area of his quarters.

Arthur looks where Gaius is pointing and knows such a fall could be fatal, particularly to someone Gaius' age.

Gaius continues. "To be perfectly honest, Arthur, often when a person discovers Merlin's secret, it is usually the last thing they learn. Not in _my_ case, obviously, but…"

"Are you saying that Merlin..._ kills_ people if they learn he has magic?"

"No, no, not at all... I am saying that many of the people who have learned Merlin has magic are people who are trying to kill _you_ or otherwise do you harm."

"And Merlin... he said he uses his magic to protect me..." Arthur drops his head into his hands, reeling again.

"If you knew all he did for you, Arthur..." Gaius sighs. "Camelot would have been lost years ago if not for him. The witch Nimueh. Morgause. Agravaine."

"The Great Dragon," Arthur adds, remembering.

Gaius says nothing, not meeting Arthur's eyes.

"What?"

"You'll have to ask Merlin about that one," Gaius says.

"The dragon lives then," Arthur says, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes. Again, Merlin must explain that to you." Gaius looks towards the windows for a moment, clearly pondering something. "Speaking of Morgause, Merlin told me what she revealed to you in the ruined castle."

"You mean the lies? The false image of my mother?" Arthur says, his heart aching at the memory of how he had allowed Morgause to deceive him. How she had preyed on his vulnerability and exploited his mother's memory.

"Arthur," Gaius starts softly, "what Morgause revealed to you that day was not a lie. You truly saw your mother."

"No..." Arthur gasps. He recovers quickly. "Why would you tell me this now, Gaius? Have I not been dealt enough blows already?" he demands, his anger rising again.

"Forgive me, my lord, but I am trying to help you understand," Gaius answers, his voice stern but soft. "Merlin only told you Morgause lied to stop you from falling into her trap. She planned to use you to kill Uther and almost succeeded."

"So... I _was_ born of magic? My father used magic to help Mother conceive?" Arthur asks. He realizes that each revelation becomes easier to bear as he becomes more accustomed to the... oddity of everything.

"Yes, Arthur. Remember, not all magic is bad. Yes, your father was deceived by the witch Nimueh, but he truly did not know your mother's life would be the one taken in exchange."

"It is still a life, Gaius," Arthur answers.

"Ah, and _that_ is what separates you from Uther. _ You_ are able to make that distinction._ Y__ou_ understand every life has value. But, I stray from my point. Slightly. You are a good man, Arthur. One of the best I have known and I have known many. I have had the honor of watching you grow from the first moment you drew breath. You were born of magic, Arthur, and no magic that creates a man such as yourself can be evil."

Arthur says nothing, touched and humbled by Gaius' words. His vision blurs with tears and he wipes his eyes.

Gaius continues. "Morgause's intentions were villainous, but what you learned from your mother that night is true. Without magic, Arthur, you would not have been born. Magic is not evil. It is a tool no more evil than a hammer or a saw. A hammer or a saw can also be used as a weapon if wielded by someone with malicious intent, yet those things are not outlawed. Only people can be evil, Arthur. The Great Purge and your father's banishment of magic from the land was brought on by his own guilt and hubris."

Arthur slowly nods, fully understanding the truth of Gaius' words. He's heard them before, but somehow they have never sunk in like they have now.

"Merlin wields his magic the way you wield your sword, Arthur. To protect. Never to harm. I have seen you hold your blade to the throat of many to whom you have ultimately showed mercy."

Arthur looks at Gaius. "What you say makes sense. I'm… beginning to understand. This doesn't mean I've forgiven Merlin… I have too many questions for him first. The dragon being one of them, but… Gaius, does Morgana know?"

Gaius shakes his head. "Merlin has managed to stop Morgana several times, but she does not yet know his secret. She knows of the existence of a great sorcerer and fears him above all else."

Arthur looks relieved at first, then his eyes widen in disbelief. "Merlin?"

Gaius nods. "As I said, he is the most powerful sorcerer I have ever seen. Perhaps the most powerful sorcerer who ever lived."

Arthur says nothing, staring at the items on the table once again.

"Merlin is your _friend_, Arthur. Always remember that. He is your servant, yes, your destiny is entwined with his, yes, but above all, never forget he is your friend," Gaius solemnly says.

"Sometimes, it is… difficult to remember that," Arthur says. He slumps in his chair, exhausted. He's gone without sleep in the past, but never under so much mental and emotional strain. "When will Merlin be back?"

Gaius blinks in surprise. "I have no way of knowing, my lord. It is at least an hour's journey to the Dochraid's lair."

Arthur looks at the door to Merlin's modest room. "I need to sleep. Someplace… safe." He stands and makes his way to Merlin's door.

"You're going to sleep in Merlin's room?" Gaius asks.

"Well, it's the last place anyone would look for me, isn't it?" Arthur asks, his hand on the door handle.

"True." He pauses. "Sire, what of Gwen?"

"She's being watched. I spoke with Leon. I didn't tell him very much, but he's changing the route right now so the map Guinevere gave to Morgana will be of no use."

Gaius nods. "Get some rest, Arthur."

"Thank you," Arthur says. "And Gaius…"

"If anyone comes looking for you, I do not know where you are," Gaius says. He arches an eyebrow. "I can lie to protect more people than Merlin, you know."

Arthur's lips twitch, almost smiling. Then, he disappears into Merlin's room, closing the door firmly behind him.

xXx

Merlin returns shortly after noon, tired and starving. He stomps into Gaius' rooms, drops Arthur's sword on the table, dumps his bag on the floor, and collapses heavily into a chair, causing it to skid noisily. Then, he groans.

"Can you be a little louder, please, Merlin? I don't believe they heard you in Caerleon," Gaius says, glancing at the door to Merlin's room, wondering if the sorcerer's noisy return has roused the king.

"Sorry, Gaius," Merlin says. "Is there any food? I didn't get any breakfast and that apple I ate on the way is long gone."

"Um, yes..." Gaius says, reaching for a plate covered with a cloth. As he passes it to Merlin, the door to Merlin's room opens and Arthur emerges.

"Figured it had to be you," he says, only glancing at Merlin. He expects his anger to rise again, but only feels the dull ache of hurt. Between his talk with Gaius and a very restful nap, Arthur is feeling more resolute, able to focus on saving Guinevere. Able to push aside dealing with The Merlin Issue until _after._

"The king didn't sleep at all last night," Gaius explains to a surprised and puzzled Merlin. "He knew no one would think to look for him there."

"Oh," Merlin says, his mouth full. He's hunched over his plate, deliberately not looking at Arthur.

"Did you get some rest, Sire?" Gaius asks.

"Yes, though my own bed would have been preferable. Bigger. Not as lumpy. On the other hand, no one wants me dead in there," he nods his head back towards Merlin's room. Arthur notices his sword, his _special_ sword lying on the table. "What is my sword doing here?"

"I had to borrow it," Merlin says, still looking at his plate.

"Dare I ask?" Arthur crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"Insurance," Merlin answers. Finally, he looks at Arthur. "The Dochraid is dangerous. I needed a weapon that could actually harm her if she did not cooperate."

"Bloody hell, don't tell me my _sword_ is magic..." Arthur exclaims, throwing his arms up and stomping over to the bookshelves along the wall.

"Little bit," Merlin says. "I'll explain later."

Arthur sighs heavily. _Later._ He turns just slightly, looking over his shoulder. "You have_ quite a bit_ to explain later, Merlin."

"I know."

"Did you get an answer?" Gaius asks. "Can we restore Gwen to herself?"

At this, Arthur walks back over near Merlin, sitting on a stool and leaving the other chair for Gaius. The old man sits, nodding gratefully at Arthur.

Merlin looks back and forth between Arthur and Gaius, wondering what transpired between them while he was gone. "I said I would not return without the answer," Merlin says a bit defensively. He takes a drink and pushes away from the table.

He relays some details of his visit, leaving out the use of his old man disguise. _I'm going to have to tell Arthur about that, too,_ he realizes. "She knew exactly who I was and why I was there," he says. "And she did not give her aid willingly."

"How do you know what she told you is true?" Arthur asks.

Merlin looks meaningfully at the sword, then at Arthur. "I can be very persuasive."

"What do we need to do?" Arthur presses.

"We have to take Gwen to the Cauldron of Arianrhod. There, I must summon the White Goddess who will cleanse her of the enchantment."

"Okay. Let's go. We'll take Guinevere to this... cauldron, you do your..." Arthur waves his hand vaguely, "and we'll get my wife back."

"It's not as simple as that, surely," Gaius says.

"Of course, it isn't," Merlin agrees. "Gwen has to enter the water of her own free will. We cannot trick or force her into the lake. We have to reach the part of her that remains true." He looks directly at Arthur for the first time. "_You_ have to reach her, Arthur. I don't have the... the connection to her that you do."

"No, you don't," Arthur says definitively. "So we're clear: I'm choosing to trust you on this _only_ because I have no other alternative. If you think for one moment that I am not going to be completely involved, that I am going to leave you alone with Guinevere while you do whatever it is you're planning on doing..."

"I don't _want_ to be left alone with Gwen, Arthur," Merlin interjects. "I think she knows I'm on to her. As it now stands, she likely wants me dead as much as she wants _you_ dead."

"Thank you for reminding me," Arthur says darkly.

"Merlin's right, Arthur. The deep and binding love connecting you to Gwen is going to be the thing that saves her. You have to speak to that part, push through the walls Morgana has erected, and reach your wife."

_I hope I can. I pr__ay__ she isn't s__o__ far gone that I cannot reach her. But, I must. If I want her back, I must. _Arthur slowly nods, understanding. "We leave at nightfall," he says.

"Arthur," Merlin asks, "um, how are we going to get Gwen to come with us? We can't just feed her a story. She's much too smart for that."

"What if she doesn't know?" Gaius suggests. "Merlin, you could just... put her to sleep, then wake her when you arrive."

"I don't want her harmed," Arthur says.

"I wouldn't harm her for the world, even if my life wasn't at stake," Merlin says, a bit offended. "A sleeping spell wouldn't hurt her at all."

"Are you _absolutely_ sure?" Arthur asks.

"Done it plenty of times," Merlin says. "Never on you though... I don't think."

"Hmm."

"Sire, why don't you suggest going for a ride at sunset with Gwen? Merlin can meet you in the forest, put Gwen to sleep, then the three of you can continue on to the cauldron," Gaius proposes.

"I can have all the supplies with me," Merlin adds, nodding. "And then, we wouldn't have to worry about an extra horse, since Gwen won't be able to ride alone once she's asleep."

Arthur stares down at his hands, twisting his mother's ring around and around on his finger. "I can't think of a better option. I hate deceiving her, but... you are correct. She won't come willingly. Also, I've been avoiding her all day, so suggesting we take a ride will not seem odd."

"It's settled then," Gaius sighs.

Merlin and Arthur nod, their faces grim.

"Make preparations. I need to find Leon," Arthur says, standing.

"Leon?"

"Guinevere and I just can't leave Camelot without telling anyone, now can we?" Arthur asks.

xXx

"How is Mordred doing?" Arthur asks. He's meeting with Leon in the armory. Training has just ended and Percival, always the last to finish his post-training routine, has just left.

"Honestly, Sire, he's a little bored and very confused. The queen seems to be keeping to herself more than usual. That's all he's said," Leon says. "He was quite put out when I told him he could not attend training this afternoon."

"He'll get over it. This is much more important."

"Arthur?" Leon asks, hoping he'll get some real answers now.

Arthur looks around, confirming they are alone. He walks to the door and checks outside to ensure no one is lingering. "Guinevere has been enchanted," he quietly says once he returns.

"What?" Leon gasps. "Did Morgana... when she was held captive?"

Arthur nods. "She's under Morgana's control. A puppet. Guinevere, the _real_ Guinevere, doesn't know what she's doing. The poisoning..." he trails off for a moment, suddenly wondering if it was actually Merlin's magic that healed him. "Sorry. The poisoning, the mess with the Sarrum... it was all her, acting under Morgana's power."

Leon is pale, a look of shocked disbelief on his face. "You're certain?"

"I saw it with my own eyes. Merlin discovered it first. He took me to the forest last night and we observed a meeting between Guinevere and Morgana."

"I am so sorry, my lord," Leon says. _No matter how upset I am about this, it is nothing to how he must be feeling._ "I... I cannot even imagine how much this is hurting you."

"It is not a feeling I would wish on anyone," Arthur says. "Except, perhaps, Morgana," he adds darkly. "But, this is why Mordred must keep to his assignment until I relieve him."

"I understand," Leon says. "Sire," he says, clearing his throat, in an attempt to disguise his concern, "can the queen be saved? Can she be brought back to herself?"

"That is why I'm telling you this," Arthur says. "We need to leave for a few days. Merlin, Guinevere, and I. I need you to handle things here while we're gone."

"Which is why I am no longer going on the levy collection," Leon concludes.

"Yes. This is also why I had you change the route. Guinevere gave a copy of the original map to Morgana last night. I think she is planning an ambush."

Leon nods. "I see. It makes perfect sense."

"We will return as soon as we can. If anyone asks, tell them we have taken a short journey to help Guinevere relax and continue to recover from her ordeal in the tower. It's not terribly far from the truth which is I'm essentially kidnapping my wife to take her to a place where her enchantment can be lifted."

Leon's brow furrows and Arthur realizes he is not going to give away Merlin's secret. The thought troubles him a little. He resolves it by deciding it's because he doesn't want to look like a hypocrite. But, deep down, Arthur knows he doesn't feel right telling a secret that is not his to reveal.

"It's best if you do not know the details," Arthur adds.

"Of course, my lord."

"Leon. Tell no one what has happened. _No one._ Not Percival, not Gwaine, not Mordred, though he will have questions. I will talk to him myself after we return."

Leon nods.

"Keep Mordred close though. I want him to learn," Arthur adds.

"Yes, my lord. When are you leaving?"

"Sunset. As far as Guinevere knows, we are going on a romantic ride in the forest," Arthur says, frowning sadly. "I wish that were the _real_ reason."

"I understand, Arthur," Leon says, placing a hand on his king's shoulder. "She is very special to all of us."

Arthur nods. "I know you kind of grew up together, Leon, and that's one of the reasons why I am entrusting you with this information. You've known her, well, longer than I have, if I am honest, and she does consider you a friend. When she's herself."

"She will be again," Leon says. "It will work out. You'll bring her back to us. I am sure of it."

Arthur smiles. "Thank you for your confidence."

"I have never known you to fail in any of your quests, my lord. You will not fail in this one."


	3. Chapter 3

"This is a lovely idea, Arthur, I'm glad I let you convince me," Guinevere says, giving Arthur a teasing smile that doesn't _quite_ reach her eyes.

This time, Arthur notices. "You let me convince you?" he asks, smiling in return as best he can. _This is so difficult. Thankfully, the rendezvous point is just ahead._

Guinevere hadn't immediately agreed to the after-dinner ride, citing various excuses from weather to safety. Arthur had to point out there wasn't a cloud in the sky, promise they wouldn't venture too far into the forest, and remind her they hadn't seen one another all day before she finally acquiesced.

It was some of the best acting Arthur had ever done. It was also one of the most difficult things he had ever done.

Guinevere maintains her false smile and their eyes meet for a moment. Arthur pushes back the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, the feeling of being someone's prey, and reminds himself that his wife is actually suffering at the hands of Morgana. He must remember that Guinevere is the prey of his demented half-sister as much as he is. He reaches his hand across to her, slowing his horse to a gradual stop.

"I love you," he says, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. The dread goes away, replaced by a wave of love for his wife, his _true _Guinevere, hidden somewhere far inside. _The deep and binding love connecting you to Gwen is going to be the thing that saves her. _"There is nothing I would not do for you, Guinevere," he adds, leaning over slightly to kiss her gloved hand. He spies movement in the bushes behind his wife and briefly sees a head of dark hair in the dimming light. "You are everything to me, do you know that?"

"Arth..." Guinevere slumps in the saddle, unconscious. Merlin is there in a flash, catching her as she starts to slide off of her horse.

"Merlin!" Arthur hisses quietly, swinging from his saddle to help bring Guinevere down. "You couldn't have waited another moment or two? I was going to dismount so I could catch her!"

"Sorry," Merlin says, speaking at a normal volume. "You were starting to look a little..."

"What?" Arthur asks, still whispering, cradling his wife in his arms.

"Spooked," Merlin says. "And you don't have to whisper. She won't wake up until I allow it."

Arthur briefly glares at his servant, not wishing to discuss anything to do with magic. "Help me put her on my horse," Arthur says. Between the two of them, they manage to get Guinevere up onto Arthur's horse, leaning her forward against the mount's neck. "I'm glad I suggested she wear her riding trousers. I would have hated to have to deal with one of her gowns," he mutters.

"Yeah, _you_ suggested it to her," Merlin says under his breath. "Who suggested it to _you?_"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur says automatically.

Merlin almost smiles.

"You have her cloak?" Arthur asks. Merlin nods. "Hand it to me. She doesn't need to be seen like this if we happen to encounter anyone."

Merlin passes up Guinevere's slate blue cloak. Arthur drapes it over her shoulders, raises the hood, then leans her back against his shoulder and closes the clasp in front.

Merlin loads their supplies onto Guinevere's horse and swings up into the saddle. "This way," he says, spurring the horse into a brisk walk.

xXx

"We should make camp soon," Arthur says.

"You don't want to ride straight through?" Merlin asks, surprised.

"The horses need a break," Arthur answers. "And, um, don't..." he pauses, not wanting to ask the question, but needing to. "Don't you need to be rested in order to summon this goddess?"

"I've done more on less sleep," Merlin says casually.

Arthur stares.

"I think."

"To be clear, my concern is for Guinevere, not you," Arthur says, remembering he's still angry with Merlin.

"Of course," Merlin answers. "Let's get a little further along, and then..." He stops talking, holding his hand up.

Arthur nods. He also heard the rustling. He also heard the telltale _snap_ of a twig.

They slow the horses and a moment later, three dirty, burly men leap out of the thicket and onto the path.

"Well, what have we here?" the man in the center says, sneering as he advances, regarding the bundle in Arthur's arms with curiosity. He has a dagger in his hand and a hatchet on his belt.

Merlin had suggested they not wear Camelot's colors or any identifying marks. Arthur knows his face may be familiar, so he keeps his head down, not wanting to give them away. Luckily, he is partially hidden by Guinevere.

Arthur starts to reach across for his sword, but realizes he can't wield his sword with his arms full of his unconscious Guinevere. He won't be able to effectively fight at all with her slumped in front of him. Instead, he slips one hand down to his side, reaching for his dagger, sheathed in a pocket of his saddle.

"Don't," Merlin addresses the bandits, his voice low and level. He extends a hand forward, fingers slightly spread.

Arthur notes Merlin does not look frightened. At all.

"Don't _what,_ little man?" the leader says, looking disdainfully at Merlin, seeing only a skinny young man with no weapon.

"Don't take another step."

"Oh, are you his bodyguard then, _Mary_?" he asks, nodding his head towards Arthur, who is surreptitiously positioning the dagger in his hand so he can throw it. The bandit smirks and deliberately takes another step. Merlin lifts his chin a centimeter, his eyes flash, and the leader flies backwards into his two very surprised (and also airborne) companions.

Arthur gapes at the scene in front of him, never imagining he'd see _Merlin_ do something like that. He's seen Morgana do it; he's even been on the receiving end of it a few times. _Merlin hardly even moved. It was barely an effort. _The thought sobers Arthur, plunging him further into his hurt, hurt that is rapidly transforming into confusion as he tries to piece together the puzzle that is his servant. _He knew I would not be able to fight with Guinevere in my arms. And h__e did say he uses his magic to protect me…_

"Let's go," Merlin says, setting his horse into motion again. He pauses beside the fallen bandits, flicks his hand a few times, and scatters their weapons. The leader's dagger flies into a large tree, burying itself to the hilt. The head of his hatchet separates from the handle. The weapons of the other two men are likewise rendered useless. "Patrol will be around in the morning," he mutters. "They'll keep till then."

"Are they dead?" Arthur asks, tucking his dagger back into its slot.

"Unconscious," Merlin says. "Not like Gwen. They're just knocked out in the traditional sense."

"Hmm," Arthur says, setting his horse into motion as well.

He doesn't say anything else for a long time.

xXx

Nearly two hours later, when they find a clearing and make camp, the moon is high in the sky. Arthur hasn't said a word since they left the bandits, but his thoughts have been very loud.

_How is it possible that Merlin has managed to keep this from me all these years? How is it even possible that he is a powerful sorcerer? I saw what he did back there. It was impressive. It was a little scary. But, did he do it just to make his point about using his magic for good, for my protection? Was it just for show?_

_ If I am to believe Gaius, he's still the Merlin I know_ _and the Merlin I know wouldn't do something like that just for show. He's… damn it, he's too good. I can admit it to myself. _ _He is a good person. Probably one of the best I hav__e ever__ known._

_ But, he _lied_ to me. For so many years._

_ He had to. Father would have killed him._

_ What about you, Arthur? What would _you_ have done had you learned about this under different circumstances? Would you have turned him in to your father? Would you have locked him up yourself once you were king? Hanged him? Burned him at the stake? Chopped off his head?_

_ Could you have done it?_

Would_ you have done it? Would you have been able to live with yourself after?_

Can_ he be killed by traditional means?_

_That's an unsettling thought_.

_ And what would Guinevere say? What counsel would she give?_

Arthur sighs, having a pretty good idea of what counsel his wise, kind wife would give.

_ I want to stay angry with him. I really do, but why? What am I accomplishing by staying angry? Upholding my laws, that's it. No. Not my laws. My father's laws._

_ He wants to help Guinevere. I know he's not lying about that._

_ But, can I even tell the difference between when he's lying and when he's telling the truth? He's been lying to me for so long, I don't know if I can believe a word that comes out of his mouth._

_ What magic has he used right under my nose and I haven't known?_

_ Do I _want_ to know?_

_ I was always taught magic is evil. I have never knowingly seen magic used for good. Until now._

_ It's so confusing._

_ Why does he do it? That's what I truly don't understand._

"I've set a blanket out for Gwen," Merlin says quietly, interrupting Arthur's rambling thoughts. Arthur hadn't even noticed that his servant has dismounted and started setting up camp.

"Oh," Arthur responds, blinking. Merlin is beside Arthur's horse, holding his hands out to receive Guinevere. Arthur slides her down and Merlin gently guides her over his shoulder. Arthur notices Merlin treats the unconscious queen with the utmost respect. He takes great care so her body isn't jostled or mishandled and his hands never venture anywhere that could be deemed inappropriate, not even by accident.

_I may not be able to tell by his words any more, but his actions speak clear__ly__._ Arthur dismounts and follows Merlin over to the blanket.

"Gently now," Arthur says, watching with amazement as Merlin carefully kneels down, Guinevere still over his shoulder. _He's much stronger than he looks. And lets on._

"Mind her head," Merlin says just as Arthur's hand comes up to support Guinevere's head, guiding it down to rest on one of Merlin's satchels.

"So peaceful," Arthur whispers, bending down to kiss his wife's forehead. "We'll bring you back, my love. I promise." He kisses it one more time before striding away to retrieve his own supplies from Merlin's horse.

When he turns around, he sees Merlin covering Guinevere with her cloak, then placing another blanket over her, tucking her in to make sure she doesn't get cold. As he approaches, he can hear Merlin softly talking to her.

"…more worried than I've ever seen him. He needs you, Gwen, so you need to come back when he calls you, all right? I won't ever let Morgana hurt you. Never again, I promise you."

Arthur drops his pack and turns away, wiping an unexpected tear from his eye. _Damn you, Merlin. Damn you and your magic and the fact that you are still a good man. Damn you for starting to prove that my father might be wrong._

_ Damn you for still being my friend._

The king thinks these thoughts, but there is no anger in them. There's confusion. A feeling of being lost, of _wanting_ to trust Merlin again but not being able to until he can somehow understand.

He watches Merlin set up a small fire, staring as the servant strikes the flint again and again without success.

"I should…" _snick_ "…wake up…" _snick_ "…Gwen…" _snick_ "…just to get her to…" _snick_ "…light this damn…" _snick_ "…fire."

"Why don't you just use magic?" Arthur's voice is low and unexpected.

Merlin looks up, hands suspended in midair. "I guess I'm just used to doing it this way…" he says. He watches Arthur, waiting for a sign to indicate he was serious. Arthur nods and gestures with one finger. _Go on then._

Merlin drops his hands, stares at the kindling, whispers a word, and the fire flashes to life in time with his eyes. He gives Arthur a sheepish half-smile and moves back, settling against a rock. Arthur's face remains impassive.

Guinevere slumbers nearby, between the two men, and Arthur keeps a careful eye on her. He notices the blanket Merlin laid out for her is large enough for Arthur to share, should he want to. _I wonder if that was intentional?_

His attention is divided between his wife and his servant. Since his wife is in an enchanted sleep and (presumably) safe, he finds himself studying Merlin across the fire more and more.

"What you did back there," he suddenly says, surprising them both, "to the bandits. How often...?"

"How often do I do things like that?" Merlin asks, studying his fingers. His forearms are propped on his raised knees, his hands dangling between, idly picking at his fingernails.

"Yes."

"More often than I care to. I don't like using my magic that way. But... it always comes down to a choice." He swallows hard. "And, when the choice is _them_ or _you_, it's not really a choice. It's my purpose. My d—"

"Destiny, yes, so you've said," Arthur says, but his tone is mild. "Who?"

"Who what?"

"Who have you... dispatched?"

"Arthur, I don't really..." Merlin sighs, dropping his hands.

"Is it a long list?"

"Yes," Merlin answers, looking away. "I... I don't really remember all of it. I don't actually know all the names."

"Agravaine?" He knows Gaius mentioned this, but wants to hear it from Merlin. He needs to. That wound still stings, even three years later.

Merlin nods.

"It was that night in the caves, wasn't it?"

Another nod.

"Did he die horribly?"

"Not horribly enough," Merlin answers. "I was more merciful than he deserved."

Arthur studies Merlin for a long moment. His servant is still avoiding his gaze, looking into the fire.

"All these things... everything you've done... all of it without my knowledge, without any recognition..."

"That's not why I do it," Merlin immediately, almost casually answers, looking straight at Arthur for a heartbeat. Then, he returns his attention to the fire.

Arthur doesn't ask why Merlin does what he does. He doesn't need to ask. And it humbles him. "If I knew everything, if you told me everything you can remember..."

"It would take a very long time and I don't even know if I _could_ tell you everything," Merlin interrupts. "I've been your servant for ten years, Arthur. I arrived here with magic in me. As I've gotten older and learned how to use and control it, my magic has only gotten stronger."

"So, acting the fool was, what, your cover?"

"It wasn't always acting," Merlin admits, his lips twisting into an unwilling smile.

Arthur actually snorts a laugh.

"But, yes, my... natural tendency towards clumsiness was helpful from time to time," Merlin adds.

"Fortunate for you, I guess," Arthur says, yawning as exhaustion settles over him.

Merlin nods half-heartedly. "Get some sleep," he says.

"You need sleep if you're going to help Guinevere," Arthur argues.

"We can both sleep. No one needs to keep watch," Merlin says, sliding down a bit and resting his head against one of the bags.

Arthur looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Trust me," Merlin says.

Arthur opens his mouth to retort, then closes it. He also closes his eyes. "I'm trying."

"I know."

Arthur sighs and moves to lie beside Guinevere, deciding he wants to be near her. Keep her warm. And, he just wants to be near her.

He's bone-weary, but the thoughts come flooding in again. He tucks his nose into Guinevere's hair, letting her familiar scent wash over him, his eyes pinched _closed._

_ Guinevere under Morgana's control. How could I not have seen it? She's my wife! I know her as well as I know myself. I should notice _any_ change in her behavior._

He thinks back and suddenly several things snap into focus, things his Guinevere would never do. _The mess with Tyr. How she counseled me not to visit him. Her furtive behavior during the Sarrum's visit. Her repeated disappearances. She_ _had __never behaved like that before._ _ I may not have always known where she was, but someone was always able to point me in her direction._

He lets his mind drift, collecting more memories, more inconsistencies. To the night before the Sarrum arrived. _She seemed so happy when she saw the flower garlands I had hung for her. We hadn't been together as husband and wife since __we__ returned from the tower and I hadn't pressed her. That night, she was quite receptive. _More_ than receptive._

_ Oh, gods, I didn't even notice she was different in our marriage bed..._

_ It was only the one time_ _and I must have attributed her more... aggressive nature to heightened desire because it had been so long._

Arthur's face grows hot with embarrassment and shame and he turns away from Guinevere. He feels slightly ill again and this time, it's his own fault. His disappointment in himself for being so stupid.

_I've been so foolish. About so much. The two people I trust above all others, both breaking my heart in different ways. The_ _worst part is neither of them can _really_ be blamed for their actions._

_ Well, Merlin can. Somewhat._

_ Damn it._

He turns over again, needing the closeness of his wife despite the circumstances. He's not sure if he'll get much sleep and it feels a little strange holding Guinevere when she's unresponsive like this, but the hope that she can once again be her true self brings him comfort this night.

_We'll bring you back, Guinevere. I promise. Not for me, though I need you more than_ _anything or anyone. We'll bring you back for yourself_.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur awakes at dawn to find Merlin already up and making breakfast. He slept better than expected and feels fairly well-rested. He rises and ducks behind a tree to empty his bladder before returning to Guinevere's side.

"Good morning, Sire," Merlin quietly says.

"Merlin," Arthur greets, barely glancing at him. He is busy fussing over Guinevere, smoothing her hair away from her face, checking that she is warm enough. He drops a soft kiss on her forehead.

Merlin wasn't expecting much, but he frowns, hating the awkwardness between them. While he understands Arthur's actions, it doesn't make them any easier to bear. He can only hope Arthur will come around. _It's only your head, Merlin. Nothing important. _He snorts an unbidden laugh at his dark sarcasm.

"What are you laughing at over there?" Arthur asks, puzzling over what Merlin could possibly find humorous right now. He stands and stretches.

"Hmm? Nothing," Merlin says. _Nothing you would find funny. Nothing _I_ find funny, actually._ "Here." He holds out a metal plate with some food on it.

Arthur steps over and takes it. "Thank you," he mutters, sitting down near Guinevere's feet. "Is she... does Guinevere need anything to eat or drink? Seems a bit unfair."

"She doesn't need anything right now, no," Merlin says, his mouth full. "However, she'll likely be very hungry when she wakes."

"I would imagine so," Arthur says. "I hope you packed enough food."

"Of course, I did," Merlin says. "If not, you're a hunter, right?"

Arthur gives Merlin a sideways look, not amused.

"Sorry," Merlin says, standing and starting to pack up their campsite while Arthur resumes eating.

Once Arthur has finished, they set about collecting Guinevere and setting her back on Arthur's horse.

"It's fortunate she's tiny," Arthur says, lifting her from the ground.

Merlin says nothing, wisely deciding that referring to the queen as "dead weight" would be both disrespectful and unwise. _She's small, but that doesn't mean she's not a bit cumbersome while in this condition._

Arthur strides to the side of his horse, Guinevere in his arms, looking expectantly at Merlin.

"Why don't we just… you, know, um, drape her sideways over the horse? It would be easier," Merlin suggests.

Arthur glares at him. "Merlin, Guinevere is not a sack of grain. She is _your_ queen and _my_ wife."

"Right. Um..." He presses his lips together, debating.

"What?" Arthur snaps.

"I can just... you know..." he gestures with his hands, trying to convey he is able to use his magic to move Gwen into place without actually _saying_ it.

"No."

"It would be simpler."

"You'll drop her."

"Not if you don't distract me. Arthur, you do realize I'll be doing much more than this once we get to the lake, don't you? And, she'll be in greater danger if I mess _that_ up," Merlin points out. He immediately realizes this may not have been the wisest thing to say.

"It's nice to know you have such confidence in yourself," Arthur says, frowning.

"I didn't mean—"

"I know you didn't mean it like that," Arthur sighs. "Fine. Do it. Prove I can trust you with my wife's life." Then, he relaxes his hold on Guinevere, still holding her securely, but loose enough to make his point.

"Very well," Merlin says, squaring his shoulders. _The worst you can do here is drop her. The worst you'll be able to do there is make a mistake and lose her forever._

_ Either way, I'm dead._

He takes a deep breath and raises his hands. His eyes flash gold and Guinevere starts to lift from Arthur's arms. He startles at first, instinctively holding onto her, but quickly recovers and releases her. He hovers close by, determined to catch her should Merlin falter.

A few tense moments later, Guinevere is seated safely atop Arthur's horse.

"All right then," Arthur says, resting his hand on Guinevere's boot for a moment, almost as though he's confirming she's really there.

"Let's get moving," Merlin says, stepping over to his horse. "I'd like to get there as soon as we can."

Arthur gives him a _look_ and swings onto his horse.

xXx

"Nearly there," Merlin says. He and Arthur have been riding all morning and have just stopped because they can't bring the horses any further. The terrain is much too treacherous to try to continue on horseback.

They secure the horses and Merlin whispers an enchantment to keep them hidden.

"How do you know where this place is?" Arthur asks. He unclasps and removes Guinevere's cloak and they slide Guinevere down from the horse without the use of magic.

"It's not something I can explain," Merlin answers. He's looking around, trying not to appear uneasy, but for the past hour, he's been aware of eyes following them.

"What _is_ it, Merlin?" Arthur asks testily, walking with his wife cradled in his arms. "You've been jumpy ever since we left the forest."

"Someone – or something – is watching us," Merlin blurts. _Having him know the truth is certainly freeing._ "Maybe tracking our progress."

"Morgana?" Arthur asks.

Merlin sighs. "It's possible the Dochraid alerted her to our plans."

"Well, we'd best hurry then," Arthur says, walking faster.

"If she's getting heavy..."

"Choose your words carefully, Merlin," Arthur says. "And, I'm fine."

They walk silently for a while, descending deep into the craggy landscape. It's all rock. There are no trees and only a few scraggly plants poke up from between the rocks.

"Arthur," Merlin says. _We're very close. I can feel it._

"Yes?"

"When I wake Gwen, she will be disoriented initially. Confused. She then may quickly realize we know the truth." He pauses, glancing over at Arthur. "If so, you need to remain strong. Remember what you need to do. She may say hateful, hurtful things to you, but you'll have to ignore them. Do not let them discourage you. It's Morgana's influence trying to dissuade you. Your Gwen is mostly gone; the person she is now wants you dead." He stops walking and faces Arthur. "You must reach the part buried deep inside. The part that is truly our Gwen. Your Guinevere. Above all else, Arthur, you cannot force her into the water. She has to enter under her own free will."

"What will happen if she doesn't?" Arthur asks.

"She'll be forever lost to us."

"Lost how? Permanently under Morgana's control... or... dead?" Arthur asks, his voice breaking.

"I don't know. Neither is an acceptable result," Merlin says.

"No. Not at all," Arthur says, looking down at Guinevere, her head resting on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for what is to come. "So, why are we just standing here then?"

"Right. It's just beyond that boulder," Merlin says. He starts walking, followed by Arthur. They pass the boulder and the landscape opens up to a small lake, the surface glittering in the sunlight. The water is blue and looks very deep.

"Where is the source of the water?" Arthur wonders, his eyes scanning their surroundings. "I see no river feeding it..."

"This is a place of magic, Arthur," Merlin says. "It doesn't need a source. Not a traditional one, anyway."

"Right," Arthur grumbles. _There are going to be many_ _things to which I'm going to have to become accustomed if I allow Merlin to stay in Camelot._ He gestures with his head at Merlin, who quickly pulls a blanket out of his pack for Guinevere. Arthur gently lays her down on it. He smoothes her hair and tenderly whispers, "It won't be long now, my love."

It's only when he stands and sees Merlin facing the lake, his eyes closed in concentration, does he realize his thought._ "If I allow him to stay in Camelot." Not "If I allow him to live_."

His shoulders droop and he looks down at Guinevere again, longingly wishing he could talk this over with her.

_I know what the right answer is. I also know what the easy answer is. Unfortunately, they are not the same._

He takes a deep breath, clearing his head. _Guinevere first._ "Merlin?" Arthur quietly asks, not wishing to disturb him if he's preparing himself.

Merlin turns immediately. "Ready?" he asks, sounding like he was waiting on Arthur.

"Yes."

They both crouch beside Guinevere, flanking her. Merlin looks at Arthur, who nods. He then whispers a few words, his hand on the queen's forehead. As soon as she stirs, he removes his hand and stands, stepping back.

"Guinevere…" Arthur breathes her name, softly caressing her cheek as her eyes blink open.

She looks around, then suddenly sits up. "Where am I?" her voice is sharper than normal. She scrambles to her feet, shaking off Arthur's assisting hand on her elbow. "What have you done to me?" she demands, looking frantically between Arthur and Merlin. "What—"

"We're trying to help you, Love," Arthur gently says, reaching a hand out towards her.

"Help me? _Help_ me?" she scoffs, evading his grasp. "The only perso_n you'v__e_ ever been interested in helping is yourself, Arthur Pendragon!" She starts to step away from him and he reaches out, lightning fast, his hand on her elbow, gentle but firm.

"Let go of me! The only way you can help me is for you to _die!_" Guinevere yells, struggling. She raises her hand to slap Arthur in the face.

He catches her arm easily, maintaining his hold on her opposite elbow. His large hand circles her forearm and though his grip is like steel, he is not hurting her. He _will_ not hurt her.

"Guinevere, my love. Please, listen to me," Arthur presses, willing his voice to stay soft. Her words have stabbed him, but he reminds himself they're not really _her_ words.

"Let me go!" she shouts, pulling against his grasp to no avail. "I am_ not_ your love! I have_ neve__r_ loved you!"

"You _do_ love me, Guinevere. You know it as well as I," he continues, maintaining his hold on her as she tries to wrench away.

"No... never... it was a ruse. Always was. Part of my mistress' plan to..." she struggles against his strength, faltering when she discovers he is immovable,, "…break you so that Camelot may pass on to its _rightful_ queen!"

"Guinevere, remember..." Arthur holds her closer still, gazing into her eyes, desperately hoping the physical proximity will help. "Remember our first kiss in your home, how it surprised us both... remember how we fought against our feelings… how we had to hide our love from my father... from almost everyone..."

Guinevere stills for a moment, blinks, and once more, attempts to pull away. "No…" she protests, but her voice is weakening.

"Keep going, Arthur… it's working," Merlin quietly says behind him. "More."

"Our love broke the enchantment I was under, Guinevere. When _you_ kissed _me_ to save me from Lady Vivian… if I did not love you,_ if you did not truly love m__e_, it would not have worked… Guinevere, remember… remember the picnic, how we talked so freely about our hopes and dreams... how we kissed under the trees… how… how I renounced my throne for you… and you wouldn't allow me to do so…" tears are starting to form in Arthur's eyes as he continues to speak. "Guinevere, _my_ Guinevere... remember how our love was strong enough to overcome all the obstacles in our way… even the obstacles I was stupid enough to put in place myself…"

"N-no… it was…"

Arthur pulls her as close as he can, wrapping his arms around her and whispering in her ear. "Remember our wedding night, Guinevere? How we were up all night, discovering…" he trails off a moment, almost getting lost in that particular memory_. How exquisite she was. The unbearable sweetness and passion we shared. _ _No, not that memory. Think, Arthur, think or you are going to lose her forever_. "Guinevere… remember when I asked you to marry me? Do you remember how you answered? You said, 'Yes, with all my heart.'"

Her body stills, but Arthur doesn't notice. "There was nothing false in those words, Guinevere. You meant those words with everything you had. They remain true..." he gasps softly, kissing her hair when he realizes she has stopped fighting him. He leans back a little, still holding her close, looking down into her eyes. They are wide and glassy as they search his face. "With all my heart, Guinevere."

She blinks once and he sees a glimmer of recognition that makes his heart pound.

Her breath catches and her body starts to tremble in his arms. "W-with… all my… heart…" she repeats, her voice a quavering whisper.

Arthur loosens his arms. Guinevere's body sags and Arthur supports her, unsure if she's going to fall. Once he's certain her feet are stable, he steps back, towards the water. "With all my heart," he repeats. His feet splash into the lake and he holds one hand out, inviting her to follow.

Guinevere looks dazed, unsteady, and confused, but she repeats the powerful words. "With all my heart," she says, stronger now, taking a step towards her husband. Arthur takes another step back. The cold water pours into his boots, but he pays no heed. His full attention is on his wife.

"With all my heart," he repeats. "Come."

Guinevere takes another wobbly step, then another, drawn to the soft timbre of her husband's voice. "With all my heart," she whispers, her hand slipping into his as she takes her first step into the water.

"I love you, Guinevere," Arthur whispers, squeezing her hand, encouraging her with a slight nod as she proceeds further into the lake, moving past him. "With all my heart."

Arthur turns to watch, wondering how far she'll go, afraid she'll go too deep. Then, the sound of Merlin's voice enters his consciousness, chanting in an unfamiliar tongue. He sounds strange, as if he is speaking with more than one voice.

Merlin's voice grows louder and Guinevere stops, waist-deep in the cold water. Arthur keeps his eyes trained on his wife as a bright white light grows around her, becoming more incandescent as Merlin's voice continues to increase in volume. The light encapsulates the queen until it seems to shine _through _her, radiating out from somewhere deep inside. Guinevere closes her eyes and allows the light to cleanse her as she is freed from the enchantment.

Arthur feels no sense of alarm or fear at this sight. In fact, he feels just the opposite – comforted, hopeful, and warm. Then, Merlin stops speaking, his voice having reached an otherworldly roar. It echoes through the cauldron and the light disperses in a great flash.

Arthur holds his breath, waiting anxiously, afraid to move, afraid his wife is going to turn back to him with hatred in her eyes once again.

Guinevere faces him and he can immediately see the change in her._ Her eyes._ _The coldness is gone._

She reaches her hand out towards him and he breathes again.

Guinevere watches as he approaches, moving as quickly as he can through the water. _My Arthur. I feel like I haven't seen him in days_. She watches him draw near and the familiar feeling of sunlight and warmth steals over her. It's how she feels whenever she sees him, like the world is right, a better place because he loves her and she loves him. She feels better, as though a great burden has been lifted, but she doesn't understand why. All she knows is she needs her husband right now. He pulls her into his arms and she hugs him back, holding him tightly, fiercely. Never wanting to_ eve_r let him go.

"Arthur," she whispers.

"Guinevere," he replies, his voice breaking, afraid to hope that their nightmare is over. He buries his face in her neck, kissing her again and again until his lips find hers.

She clings to him, returning his kisses, heedless of the water and the wet saltiness of his tears. _What has happened? Why are we here?_ She's not sure what has occurred, but she knows being here in Arthur's arms is _right._ It is _good._ It is _true._

"I love you, Arthur," Guinevere says, pressing her cheek against his, not caring that it is a little scratchy.

"You're truly back?" Arthur asks, gazing down into her eyes once again, reassured to see they are now clear and shining with love. "It's really you? You're yourself again? You love me?"

"I'm not sure where I was, but... yes, I love you more than anything," she says. "With all my heart," she repeats. She blinks in confusion for a moment, wondering why those long-ago words surfaced just now.

Guinevere doesn't have time to ponder them because Arthur is hugging her again, relief washing over him.

"Arthur?" she asks.

"Yes, my love?"

"Why are we in a lake? Can we get out? It's very cold."

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry," he answers, walking towards the shore with his wife still in his arms. "I'll explain everything soon, Love."

She wraps her legs around his waist as the water gets shallower, hanging on with all four limbs. Arthur almost laughs with joy. Then, he sees Merlin, sitting on the blanket, looking exhausted.

Guinevere puts her feet on the ground and notices Merlin, her brows knitting with concern. "Merlin, are you all right?" she asks.

"Yes," he answers, but his voice is weak. Tired. He smiles a little. "I'm glad you're back."

"Thank you, Merlin. I... I'm not sure where I've been, but..."

"We'll talk about that later," Arthur gently says, kissing her temple. She's shivering, chilled by her wet clothes. The warmth of the day doesn't seem to permeate the cauldron.

"There are dry clothes for you in here," Merlin says, shoving his satchel towards them, truly not having the energy to lift it.

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur says, bending to pick it up. He leads Guinevere to a group of boulders to give her privacy, but pauses near Merlin, resting a hand on his shoulder as Guinevere continues on. "Thank you," he repeats, his voice softer and more serious. Merlin knows he is not only being thanked for the dry clothes.

"You're welcome," he answers. Then, he looks up at Arthur. "This is what I do, Arthur. This is what I've been doing all along. Only now, you know. You've seen it and you know."

"I do."

Merlin looks Arthur straight in the eye. "You're not going to kill me," he says. It's not a question; it's not a command. It's a realization.

"No. I'm not."

They regard each other another moment. "There are dry clothes for you in that bag, too. You don't want to fall ill now that your queen is restored to you."

The corner of Arthur's lip twitches into a tiny smile. He nods at Merlin, then goes to change.

xXx

"Arthur, will you tell me what happened, please?" Guinevere asks as they walk back to the horses. "Goodness, I feel like I haven't eaten in at least a day," she adds absently.

"There's some food with the horses," Merlin says. "Sorry, I should have brought some with, but I was trying to travel light." He looks up at the sky again, eyes tracking... something. Or someone.

"That feeling still there?" Arthur asks, holding his hand out for Guinevere to help her across a particularly treacherous section.

Merlin nods. "We need to get back to the forest. I don't like being out in the open like this."

"_Arthur,_" Guinevere presses, pulling on his hand. She stops. "What happened to me?"

He sighs and takes both of her hands in his. "You've been under an enchantment ever since we rescued you from the tower. Morgana has been controlling you. I wanted to wait until we returned to the horses to tell you, but... it's not fair of us to keep you in the dark."

"What?" she asks, her eyes wide. "I..." she closes her eyes, thinking hard. _It's all fuzzy... like I've woken up from a bad dream, but I don't remember what it entailed. All I know is it was awful._ "How long?"

"Nearly two weeks, my love. I... I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner..." Arthur says, his voice breaking as guilt once again washes over him.

"Shh, Arthur, no..." Guinevere throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "You cannot take any blame for this. Morgana may be evil, but she's smart. Unfortunately, my having been her handmaiden for so long gave her an advantage. She knows me too well and has used that knowledge."

"I should have noticed..." Arthur says, resting his head against hers.

"Arthur, Gwen is right," Merlin says. "None of us noticed. Morgana is smart and she knows Gwen is as welll. Gwen's intelligence combined with Morgana's evil was a very dangerous weapon."

"_You_ noticed, Merlin," Arthur points out.

"I happened to be in the right place at the right time," Merlin shrugs.

"Weapon?" Gwen asks, pulling away, looking up at Arthur. "I was a weapon? What did I do?" She looks worried, fearful about what it was Morgana had her do – or attempt to do – while she was under her control.

Merlin looks up at the sky again. "We need to keep moving," he urges. "Gwen, I promise we'll tell you everything, but we need to get under the cover of the forest as soon as possible."

Gwen looks disappointed and a little frustrated, but nods, following Merlin, her hand firmly in Arthur's. _Since when does Arthur listen to Merlin's instincts without question? And why is Merlin so jumpy? And tired?_

"Who do you think it is?" Arthur asks.

"Morgana. If not herself, then maybe..." Merlin trails off, his eyes tracking skyward again.

"That dragon of hers?" Arthur asks.

"Perhaps," Merlin says. _I hope it is Aithusa. She isn't a threat to me._

They finally reach the horses. Merlin had lifted the concealing enchantment far enough in advance so as not to alarm Guinevere. He wants to _tell_ her about his magic rather than having her find out by seeing horses appear out of nowhere.

Guinevere rides with Arthur again, munching an apple and trying to remember... something. Anything.

They ride for a short time before stopping to have a small lunch of fruit and dried meat.

"What is the last thing you remember, Guinevere?" Arthur asks, pulling his still-damp boots off for a bit.

"I remember... being in the tower. It was like living a nightmare. But... even that's hazy. Once Morgana locked me in the room with all those... things..."

"Mandrake roots," Merlin supplies.

Gwen puzzles at him a moment, but continues. "My memories are cloudy from that point on. I know something very bad was happening to me." She tightly closes her eyes. "If I concentrate, I get a fleeting memory, but mostly it's just a horrible feeling of despair. Hopelessness. Emptiness. Abandonment."

"I'm sorry she put you through all of that, Gwen," Merlin says. He looks truly pained by this.

"Thank you, Merlin, but you're not to blame for her actions," Guinevere says.

_I certainly didn't help Morgana as much as I could have_. Merlin's face is grim, but he says nothing in response.

"Merlin," Guinevere says, studying him, "what's troubling you? I don't want to say you've been acting strangely since I... woke up, but please, tell me. What is it?"

Merlin stills, then takes a deep breath. "Gwen, there is so much I need to tell you... _we_ need to tell you..." he trails off, looking at Arthur.

"This one is all yours," Arthur says, holding up his hands. Guinevere briefly puzzles at Arthur before returning her attention to Merlin.

Merlin sighs. "The other things we have to tell you might make more sense if you know this first," he mutters. "You know you were enchanted and you know we just broke that enchantment," he begins, looking at Guinevere. She nods. "Aren't you wondering _how_ we broke it?"

"Yes, actually. I mean, it had to have something to do with that lake. Was it a magic lake?" she asks. Her eyes widen and she turns to Arthur. "Arthur, did you... you had to use magic to bring me back!"

Arthur slowly nods. "You were enchanted. There was no other way, Guinevere. Sorcery has to be fought with sorcery," he quietly says. He is surprised to discover he doesn't feel defeated saying these words. Instead, a feeling of acceptance slowly rolls through him. _The only way to fight evil magic is with good magic. Why did I never see the sense in this before?_

_ Because you were taught that all magic __is__ evil._

"I'm a sorcerer, Gwen," Merlin says. She turns back to him with a gasp. "I... I was born with magic and... used it to summon the White Goddess so that you would be freed from your enchantment."

"Merlin..." she whispers, staring at him in disbelief.

"The waters of the lake cleansed you of the evil Morgana put inside you," Merlin nervously finishes.

Guinevere is stunned, rendered speechless.

"Please don't let this change your opinion of me," he asks, looking at her, tears welling in his eyes. "I'm still the same person I always was. I... I couldn't let Morgana control you like that. Not when I could do something about it."

"Why…why didn't you tell me?" she asks, frowning. She's surprised at the hurt she feels at his revelation.

"It was my burden to bear, Gwen. If I told you, you would also be in danger, just for knowing," he says.

"Does Gaius know?"

"Well, yes, but..."

The stricken look on her face stops whatever feeble excuse he was about to give. "Gwen, as the years passed, it became harder to guard my secret, but... I didn't want to put you in the position of having to keep something from Arthur. I wouldn't make you choose between him and me. It wouldn't be right. He's your _husband_. I'm only your friend. A good friend, but your loyalty must be to Arthur."

"He knows now though," she says, glancing at Arthur, who nods.

"I didn't respond well," he says. "I'm still not happy about it, to be honest. I chose to put all that aside in the interest of saving you." He reaches over, takes her hand in his, and lifts it to his lips.

"He flipped over a table. And, he almost tackled me," Merlin supplies.

Gwen nods. "Yes, that's about how I would have imagined his reaction." She looks at Arthur who has suddenly decided the fingernails on his free hand are _very_ interesting.

Merlin sighs. "I was almost forced to allow you to see my magic once. If Arthur hadn't arrived and killed the Lamia when he did, you would have seen me use it to save us."

Guinevere slowly nods, understanding now. _Merlin wasn't being selfish by not sharing his secret with me, he was being selfless._

"Gwen, if I would have shared this burden with anyone, it would have been you. You're... even though you're the queen now, you were the first person in Camelot to befriend me and that has always meant more to me than I can say. I think of you as a sister. I know it's not 'proper' for a servant to feel that way about his queen, but..."

"Merlin," Guinevere interrupts him. She moves over to sit beside him and places her hand over his, "it's all right. I was your friend before I became queen and I shall _always_ be your friend." She squeezes his hand, then holds on to it. "You know you are more than just a servant," she says, glancing at Arthur, "to _both_ of us."

"Thank you," Merlin says. He wipes his eyes with his free hand. Guinevere turns and hugs Merlin tightly. "Don't worry, Arthur's not going to have me executed," he says.

"Of course, he won't," she answers. She pulls away and looks at him, wiping an errant tear from his cheek. "He would never do that. Not to you."

Arthur watches them, moved by Guinevere's faith in him. _It seems she knows my heart and mind better than I do right now._

xXx

They settle in at the same place Merlin and Arthur camped the previous night and Guinevere gets to see Merlin use his magic to light the fire. She smiles, impressed.

"Thank you, Merlin," she says.

"Oh, um, you're welcome. It's nothing really," he says, setting about getting their dinner ready.

"No, not the fire, though that was quite impressive. Thank you for bringing me back to myself. You risked your life for me and I won't ever forget it," she says, stepping over to him. He stands and she hugs him. "You are very dear to me, Merlin," she adds, pulling slightly away. Then, she lifts up on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. "Thank you so very much."

"You're welcome, Gwen," he answers, blushing.

She smiles at him once more, then goes back to sit beside Arthur. He grabs her and pulls her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm just so glad you're better. That you're yourself again," he says. "I don't know what I would have done..."

"Shh, let's not discuss that," she says, caressing his cheek. "You saved me and I'm very glad to be back."

"Merlin saved you," he says.

"Arthur, it was_ you__r_ voice that called me, not Merlin's. I heard what you said to me and it was... it was like waking up from a long sleep."

"Arthur had to reach you. I couldn't have done it," Merlin explains and she turns to look at him. "Arthur had to find the part of you that was untainted by Morgana's manipulation. In a way, his job was more difficult than mine. You see, you had to walk into the lake voluntarily."

"Tell me," she says, shifting to face Merlin. Arthur allows her to move off of his lap, but he keeps his arm around her and holds her snugly to his side.

Merlin and Arthur tell Guinevere what happened at the cauldron, how Merlin woke her after keeping her in an enchanted sleep, how Arthur called on memories of their life together to reach her.

"With all my heart," Guinevere says, smiling lovingly at Arthur. "That must be why I said it later. It was fresh in my mind, only I didn't fully realize it." She sets her dinner plate aside and huddles closer to him.

"Are you getting cold? I can fetch your cloak for you," Arthur offers. "Or a blanket."

"My cloak would be nice, thank you," she says. Arthur reaches for one of the satchels and withdraws her cloak. He places it over her shoulders, waits for her to arrange it how she wants it, then wraps his arm around her again. Guinevere lays her head on his shoulder and sighs.

Merlin tidies up and hunkers down beside the fire. Occasionally, he manipulates the smoke into shapes, almost absentmindedly.

"You said I was a weapon," Guinevere suddenly says after a few moments of quiet. "What did I do?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Arthur asks, looking down at her.

"How would you feel knowing you were not in control of your own actions for several days? Wouldn't you like to know what you'd gotten up to during that time, no matter how awful?" she asks, meeting his gaze.

"She has a point, Arthur," Merlin says. Arthur nods. "Gwen," Merlin continues, "if you were in Morgana's place, what would you have done?" he asks. His voice is quiet and careful.

Guinevere is silent for a few moments. Then, her breath hitches into a muffled sob. "No... please tell me I didn't..."

"You attempted it twice," Arthur quietly says. Horrified, Guinevere tries to pull away from him, but he draws her nearer. "The first was by poison and the second was an assassination attempt arranged with the help of the Sarrum of Amata. One of his henchmen tried to shoot me with a crossbow during their visit."

Guinevere drops her head, burying her face in her hands, sobbing with remorse. "I'm sorry, Arthur," she whispers, not lifting her head. "I'm so, so sorry, my love."

"Guinevere, it wasn't you," Arthur answers, kissing her hair, holding her close. She turns slightly and presses her face into his shoulder.

"I know, but I still feel terrible," she says.

"You didn't succeed, that's the important part. I'm still alive," Arthur says. "And, I assume we have Merlin to thank for that." He looks over at Merlin, who is staring at the fire, frowning with concern for Guinevere.

"Just doing what I've always done, my lord," Merlin answers. He doesn't move, but his eyes flick in Arthur's direction.

"Merlin," Guinevere says, lifting her head and wiping her eyes, "that was dangerous for you... I mean, I probably would have killed you, too..."

"You tried, in a way," Merlin says. "You pinned the blame on me for the poison, actually."

"Oh, no, Merlin, I'm..."

"It's all right, Gwen. Being locked in the dungeon isn't much of a deterrent for me," he says. "But, it was my first clue there was something _very_ wrong with you."

Fresh tears started falling from Guinevere's eyes while Merlin was speaking and she wipes them away. "All the same, I'm sorry, Merlin. Even though I wasn't acting under my own control, the fact remains you deserve an apology," she softly says.

"Thank you, Gwen," he says. "Luckily, Morgana doesn't see me as much of a threat or things could have been a lot worse," he adds.

"Something for which we should be thankful," Arthur says.

"Yes," Guinevere says, grateful for a slightly different topic. She sniffles and continues, sitting up straighter. "The longer we can keep her from knowing about your secret, the greater our advantage."

"Hopefully, she never has to find out," Arthur says, smiling. _I know Guinevere is smart, but I sometimes forget she understands strategy better than most of my knights._

"That would be good, but I'm not going to keep my hopes up," Merlin says. "Morgana seems to have a knack for gathering allies and spies."

"Are you saying you want to continue keeping your magic a secret? Even from our most trusted friends?" Guinevere asks.

"At this point, I think the less people who know, the safer we are," Merlin answers. "As long as Morgana is around and there are weak-willed, power-hungry men who believe her seductive lies, we have to stay vigilant."

"Aren't you more powerful than she?" Arthur asks.

"Truly?" Guinevere adds.

"It's Gaius who is more certain of that," Merlin says. He idly throws another log on the fire. "I'd really rather not have to pit my power directly against hers unless it becomes absolutely necessary."

"Good point," Arthur nods. "Very well. I leave it up to you to decide whom to tell. Just… let me know who those individuals are."

"Of course," Merlin says. "So... you're not going to punish me at all?"

Arthur says nothing for a long moment. "Probably not."

"I think you've endured enough suffering all these years, Merlin," Guinevere gently adds. Once again, she leans her head against Arthur's shoulder and covers a yawn with her hand.

"You should sleep, my lady," Merlin says.

"Wasn't I asleep for an entire day?" she asks, but her eyelids are drooping.

"Enchanted sleep. It's a different kind. Not very restful," Merlin says.

"You must be tired, too, Merlin. I remember seeing how exhausted you were when we came out of the lake," she says. Arthur is spreading a blanket out for them and Merlin reaches for a blanket as well.

"I am. The only reason I didn't immediately fall asleep after we ate is because I knew you'd have questions," Merlin answers, lying down.

"Thank you," she says, curling on her side and almost immediately falling asleep, Arthur's arms around her.

Arthur lies awake, mulling things over. He is not yet tired enough for sleep, but content to lie with Guinevere, his true Guinevere, in his arms. After a few minutes, Merlin sneezes and Arthur looks over at him. He can just see Merlin in the dying firelight, tossing on his blanket, attempting to get comfortable on the hard ground. "Merlin?" Arthur quietly asks, mindful of his sleeping wife. Guinevere doesn't stir, her head tucked under his chin.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you never tell me?"

"You would have killed me."

"Would I have?" Arthur asks.

Merlin says nothing. When Arthur doesn't speak further, Merlin answers his question with one of his own. "You can't answer that, can you?"

Arthur sighs. "No, I can't."

"Which is precisely why I couldn't tell you, Arthur. I didn't want to put that burden on your shoulders. I didn't want you to have to make that choice." He sits up. "I'm not like Morgana or Agravaine or even Uther, Arthur. I don't want power. The only person I am interested in seeing on the throne is you. You and Gwen. The others made their choices based on their own desires. Honestly, I _saw_ what their betrayals did to you. I was right there with you the entire time. Do you seriously believe I kept this from you to hurt you? Because I didn't trust you? I didn't tell you because it might have hurt you _more_ if you knew the truth."

Merlin lies back down, sighing heavily.

"I know," Arthur answers. "I can see the logic in all of it. My head tells me you have done everything you can to protect me, even from myself sometimes. My _head_ knows you're still the same terrible servant I've had all these years."

Merlin snorts a laugh. "And what does your heart tell you, Arthur?"

Arthur looks down at his sleeping wife. His queen. His love. His reason for existing, truly returned to him, restored to herself with the help of his strange and suddenly mysterious servant. "My heart tells me I can still trust you," he says.


	5. Chapter 5

"Elyan!"

Guinevere wakes with a start, jerking in Arthur's arms. Her wide eyes meet his concerned blue ones and she exhales heavily, sagging against his chest, knowing she's safe in his arms.

"Shh, Guinevere, you're safe," Arthur coos and she drops her head against his chest, under his chin. Arthur looks over at Merlin, already awake and packing up, and sees that his servant is thinking the same thing. _She doesn't know._

"It was a dream… a nightmare…" Guinevere says. "Elyan. He was dying in my arms. All I could do was watch him die, there in the darkness of…" She gasps and looks up at Arthur, her face ashen.

"The tower. Yes, Love. I am so sorry," Arthur softly says, stroking her hair. "I don't think it was so much a bad dream, more a… a memory."

"So… Elyan's really…?"

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispers, holding her tightly as she ducks her head and sobs into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt, her body shaking with shock and grief. "If it helps, he did not die in vain. He died rescuing you from Morgana. The enchanted blade that took his life… it was intended for me."

She continues to weep, clutching Arthur. He rubs soothing circles on her back and kisses her hair, allowing her the time to mourn again. Being present for her this time when he was unable to in the tower.

_I was so paralyzed with shock that I couldn't, in fact, go__ to h__er__, hol__d her in her time of need. _He squeezes his eyes closed and a tear slips out of one corner, rolling back into his ear. _Later that night, I attempted to comfort her, to hold her in my arms. She rebuffed me, shrinking into herself. I didn't press, allowing her to grieve as she chose._ He looks down at her, clinging tightly to him, availing herself of his strength and support. _ It was the enchantment that made her push me a__way. I see that now_.

"Gwen," Merlin quietly says, crouching beside them, "Elyan was so proud of you. I don't know if he ever told you, but we could all see it. Whenever he spoke of you, he was bursting with pride. We always thought he'd pop the buckle on his belt. In fact, Gwaine used to incessantly tease him about it."

Guinevere hitches a watery laugh against Arthur's chest, then lifts her head to look at Merlin.

"We knew it was a trap and still we went," Merlin quietly says, taking her hand and squeezing it.

"He was a fine knight, a good man, and is dearly missed by all of us," Arthur says, kissing her forehead. "If he had known before going into that tower that you would be rescued, but he would die… he still would have gone in, Gwen. He would have, for you," he adds.

"Yes," Merlin confirms. _Any one of us would have._

"Did I mourn him? Truly?" Guinevere asks, sitting up and wiping her eyes. Arthur hands her a handkerchief from inside the bag they had been using as a pillow. "Thank you," she says.

"Yes, you did," Arthur answers. "I believe it was in earnest."

"I hope so," she says, furrowing her brow. "Oh, Elyan!" she moans. "I can't believe he's gone." Tears start falling anew and Arthur wraps his arms around her again.

"It was a beautiful day when we had his send-off, Gwen," Merlin says. "The sun was shining – you know how he always liked sunny days – and the lake was still and calm. All the Knights of Camelot were there, standing behind you, supporting you as you bade farewell to your brother."

Gwen closes her eyes, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as Merlin speaks. "I… I think I remember. Arthur… you had your arm around my shoulders. It was nearly sunset. I didn't cry. I couldn't anymore," she whispers.

"Yes," Arthur nods, kissing her temple.

She opens her eyes and looks at them. "I need to know everything that happened while I was enchanted. I don't want to learn about it through a series of nightmares," she declares, wiping her eyes again.

"I'm sorry we neglected to tell you yesterday, Guinevere," Arthur says. "There was just so much…"

"I understand. You had to deal with the critical issues first," she nods. "And I kept asking questions." She smiles a little, picking at the edges of the handkerchief while Arthur gently pulls her into the circle of his arms again, hugging her tightly.

"We will tell you everything," Merlin says with a confidence he does not feel. He knows there are some things she's not going to enjoy hearing and while the queen is very strong, he still worries for her mental well-being. "But first, we need to get home. Can we eat and ride?"

"What's the hurry, Merlin?" Arthur wonders. "I thought we were safe in the forest from the whatever-it-is that was watching us?"

"I said _safer_, not safe. I'm still anxious," Merlin says, now standing and shoving items into bags.

"Still?" Guinevere repeats, standing as well.

"Yes. It's been too easy."

xXx

"Sir Leon, the King and Queen have been spotted," Mordred reports, looking up at the tall knight.

"Where are they?" Leon inquires.

"About five miles out. Requesting permission to ride out and meet them."

Leon thinks a moment, then looks at the young knight. "Itching to get out of here for a bit, yes?" he asks, slightly smiling.

Mordred cannot hide his grin.

"Very well. Go on then. Escort them back home, lad," Leon says, clapping him on the back. "And, Mordred?"

"Yes?" Mordred turns back.

"Good work these past few days. You're a quick study. It will help you go far," the older knight says, nodding his approval.

"Thank you, sir," Mordred smiles and dashes off to the stables.

Leon strides towards the kitchen to check that lunch will be ready for the king and queen upon their return. He pushes the door open and pauses halfway in when he hears the conversation in progress.

"...well, _I_ heard they went off to consult with a wise woman – you know, a _witch_ – to seek advice about getting the queen with child. About time, if you ask me. Three years and no heir? Either they're not _trying hard enough_, if you know what I mean, or she's ba—"

Sir Leon clears his throat loudly and pushes the rest of the way into the kitchen. There are two girls working just inside the doors. One is kneading bread dough at a table and the other is plucking a chicken over a basin.

Or, they were. They've both stopped moving, frozen in place as the First Knight of Camelot glares at them.

"Sir Leon, I..." the girl making bread stammers.

"Enough," he snaps. "Where did you hear such ridiculous lies?"

"Um... well, a person hears talk around the castle... sir... and, um... I was just walking around, um, doing my duties, and..." the girl falters under Leon's angry stare. "I'm sorry, I cannot say for certain," she answers biting her lip.

"You _do_ realize your words could be considered treasonous, do you not? Gossiping about the king and queen's private affairs? Spreading lies about consorting with witches when magic is banned in this land?"

"I'm sorry, sir. It... it won't happen again," she says, close to tears now.

"See that it doesn't. And see that the rumors stop."

"H-how do I do that?" she asks, eyes wide.

"That is not my concern. You should have thought of that before repeating them," he says.

"I _told_ you, Daisy," the girl with the chicken hisses. "You shouldn't say mean things about the queen. _Especially_ because she used to be one of us!"

"Yes, sir," Daisy answers meekly.

"I'm willing to look the other way this one time, but see that it never happens again. Is that understood?" Leon asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, sir," both girls respond.

"The king and queen are on their way back as we speak. See to it that their lunch is ready within the hour," he orders, heading back to the door.

"Yes, sir."

xXx

Mordred rides out, following the main road through the forest, heading in the direction of the king's party. He moves swiftly but not hurriedly, knowing they do not necessarily _need_ an escort, but he's eager to see them. His curiosity has been piqued since Leon told him to shadow the queen two days ago.

He travels deeper into the woods where the trees are thicker and taller. He spies movement ahead, to the side of the road. _What is that?_ He slows his horse a bit, studying the spot where he thought he saw a dark shape stirring in the bush.

A short distance away, Mordred stops his horse, dismounts, and advances on foot, his sword drawn. If it's a bandit, he's hoping to get the drop on him before the man pounces. He approaches and, again sees movement, this time accompanied by the faint, but familiar tingle of magic.

"Mordred," a recognizable voice greets him and Morgana steps out from behind a tree, smiling in a manner that would be considered sweet on a different face. On Morgana's, it looks serpentine.

_All the warmth and kindness she had is completely gone,_ Mordred notes, re-sheathing his sword.

"Morgana. What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Waiting," she answers. "Look at you. A Knight of Camelot."

"Yes," he carefully answers, still trying to determine her true purpose for being in the woods.

"I expected better of you," she chides, tutting and shaking her head sadly.

"You expected me to join you in your twisted mission to destroy Arthur?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"We are of a kind, you and I," she says, angling her head at him. "My idiot brother doesn't understand what we have been through. The suffering of our people. He continues Uther's tyranny against magic," she sneers.

"You're wrong, Morgana. About so many things," Mordred says. "Arthur is not his father. And, you're not the person you used to be."

"That person was weak and shallow. I have _power_ now. _I_ should be on the throne, not him. I was nearly there, but now they've ruined my plans again!" she hisses, her hands balling into fists.

"You were nearly there?" Mordred gently presses, pieces sliding into place now. _Follow the queen. Don't ask questions. Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin leave Camelot suddenly and under false pretenses._ Leon didn't tell Mordred they weren't _really_ going on a romantic getaway, but he didn't have to.

"She was the best pawn I'd ever had. Certainly the cleverest. And now... now, she's no longer under my control!" Morgana growls. She looks at Mordred, at his young face and wide blue eyes, such a bright blue, just like when he was a boy, and calms herself. Her scowl twists into a smirk. "No matter. I've controlled her twice now; I will do it a third time. I will use her again and again until Arthur is dead."

_She was somehow controlling Queen Guinevere! That explains everything..._ "Twice?" he asks, confused.

xXx

"I wonder if anyone will be meeting us," Merlin muses. "The scouts will have spotted us by now."

"I don't know," Arthur says. "But, perhaps we should stop a moment so you can return Guinevere's horse to her."

"Right," Merlin says and they stop. It would not do for the king's servant to be seen riding the queen's horse while the queen rides with the king, even though Guinevere and Arthur have thoroughly enjoyed cozily sharing a saddle.

Merlin dismounts and helps Guinevere down from Arthur's horse. As she is climbing up onto her horse, Merlin's head turns sharply skyward.

"What is it, Merlin?" Arthur asks.

A moment later, they hear the telltale shriek of Morgana's young dragon.

"Dragon," Merlin says. _Damn it._ He drops the satchel he was pulling from Guinevere's saddle and stands clear of the horses, watching.

Aithusa suddenly sweeps down from the sky, aiming straight at Guinevere, talons outstretched. Guinevere flinches, expecting to be snatched up. Arthur moves his horse closer to Guinevere, drawing his sword, ready to strike at the beast

Merlin raises his face, bellows a string of words in dragon-speak, and Aithusa abruptly pulls up, recoiling.

Arthur and Guinevere stare, agape with disbelief as the small, white dragon lands a distance away from them. Merlin marches purposefully over to her, his face angry.

He continues to speak in the strange language to the dragon, his voice stern at first, but gradually softening. Arthur watches, dumbfounded, as the dragon bows her head in remorse, not willing to meet Merlin's gaze, then nods.

"I'm sorry, Aithusa," Merlin softly says, returning to his normal speech and stepping closer to the now docile creature. He raises a hand and places it on her forehead. "I thought Kilgarrah was looking after you. I'll help you, I promise. You know I will."

She nods again and makes a small chirping noise, almost birdlike.

"Go, now. I will call for you later," Merlin says, gently rubbing Aithusa under her chin. "Do you understand?"

Aithusa nods and chirps once more. Then, she steps back, nods deferentially to Merlin, and pushes off the ground, taking to the sky again.

"Merlin?" Arthur asks.

Merlin is still as a statue, watching the dragon fly towards Camelot. _Morgana must be waiting for us somewhere ahead._

"Merlin!" Arthur repeats.

"Yeah?" Merlin asks, looking at Arthur.

"What. Was that?"

"Oh. Um, yeah. That's another thing I haven't told you about," Merlin answers, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"You can speak to dragons?" Guinevere asks.

"Yes," Merlin sighs. "I'm, well... I'm kind of a dragonlord. _The_ dragonlord, I guess. I'm the only one."

"Wait, wait..." Arthur says, furrowing his brow. "Didn't the last dragonlord die? That fellow... Balinor? Did he somehow give you his powers when he died?"

Merlin walks over to Arthur and Guinevere and continues unloading some of the supplies from the queen's horse. "Something like that," he says. "The power passes from father to son."

"The dragonlord was your father?" Guinevere asks.

"I didn't know he was my father until just before we left Camelot to find him," Merlin says, looking up at her. "He didn't know I existed. We had a few hours together, knowing we were father and son... then, he died."

"I'm so sorry, Merlin," Guinevere says.

"I'm sorry, too, Merlin," Arthur adds, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "And, I'm sorry I told you he didn't deserve your tears."

"You didn't know. And, I couldn't tell you," Merlin says, smiling a sad smile. "I got to spend more time with him than I ever thought I would. That's worth something."

"That's worth everything, Merlin," Guinevere says, reaching her hand down to him. He places his hand in hers, lightly squeezing.

"Thank you, Gwen," he says.

"What did you say to him?" Arthur asks.

"Hmm?"

"The dragon. What did you say to him?"

Merlin chuckles, gathering up his bags. "_Her_. Aithusa is a female," he says.

"I'll take your word for it," Arthur answers.

xXx

"Despite what you all think, your precious queen is not without fault," Morgana says, looking rather smug. "Ah, but you weren't in Camelot for the big scandal, were you? I'm sure you've heard about it. Knights are terrible gossips."

"I know the queen was banished for a time before her coronation, but no one is very willing to speak of it," Mordred says. Vaguely, he wonders why Morgana is telling him this, but figures if he can keep her talking, perhaps he can stave off whatever attack she is planning for Arthur and Guinevere this morning.

"She was caught kissing a knight of Camelot that was not her _beloved_ Arthur. On the eve of their wedding, no less," Morgana says, grinning devilishly. "Dear, departed Sir Lancelot, returned from the dead with some half-baked story of how he survived walking into the veil between the worlds," she pauses, scoffing derisively. "He was a shade. _I_ brought him back and sent him to woo her."

Mordred listens carefully, wondering if the king and queen know any of this and vowing to remember every word.

"You see, I know my brother's greatest weakness is his love for my former maid," she continues, smirking again. "Unfortunately, our little Gwen was truly over her infatuation with Lancelot, so I had to... _help_ things along with the help of an enchanted bracelet. It worked out quite nicely."

"Guinevere still became queen," Mordred says, confused. "Arthur forgave her."

"I know. The imbecile _forgave_ her," Morgana spits. "But, his devotion to her continues to be his downfall and I can still use it to my advantage." She looks up, tracking the sky, searching for something.

"What happened to the compassionate woman who protected me all those years ago?" Mordred asks.

"She was a _fool!_ Now, I know the truth! Uther was a liar and a tyrant, and Arthur is no better! Can't you see, Mordred? Can't you see that magic will _never_ be allowed in Camelot? You will always have to hide. You will always be forced to be ashamed of who you _really_ are!" Her voice softens as she persists in her seduction of the young knight. "I would never make you feel like you have to hide your true self. You will be my chief knight, wiser and more powerful than that pathetic old lady Leon."

Mordred can't believe what he is hearing. _The Morgana I knew is gone. This Morgana has been twisted by her hunger for power and a misplaced sense of entitlement._ "You're wrong," Mordred says. "Arthur sees reason where his father never did. I've seen it. He is—"

Mordred's words are cut off by Aithusa's arrival. She lands in front of Morgana, but out of the witch's reach.

"Where… where is she? You didn't bring her to me!" Morgana gasps, surprised. "You must go back and try again! Do not fear them! If Arthur tries to get in your way, incinerate him!"

Aithusa drops her head, shakes it_ no_ and nervously steps back.

"Aithusa! What... no..." Morgana steps towards Aithusa and the dragon takes another step back, shaking her head again.

"I'm sorry I raised my voice, darling, I didn't mean to be cross with you." Morgana is pleading now, reaching out for the dragon, who keeps evading her grasp. "Please, just... go back and get me Gwen..."

Aithusa shakes her head a third time, makes a small screeching noise, and launches herself into the air, flying away.

"Aithusa!" Morgana yells into the air, watching her longtime companion fly away. She instinctively knows she will not see the dragon again and flies into a rage. "_No!_"

Mordred takes a step back, his hand reflexively moving to the handle of his sword, his magic defensively tingling in his fingertips as he prepares himself for any kind of attack.

Morgana shrieks, ear-splitting and otherworldly, and the trees around her tremble. A few leaves drop. She looks over at Mordred, her eyes pleading.

"No," Mordred whispers, answering her unasked question. He shakes his head, the movement slight, but definite.

Morgana screams again, her hands out at her sides, fingers spread like talons. She shrieks one more time, even louder. Mordred covers his ears and watches, wide-eyed, as the sorceress disappears in a whirlwind of dust and fallen leaves.

xXx

"Let's keep moving," Merlin says. "They'll be expecting us."

"Walk _and_ talk, Merlin," Arthur orders.

They start moving. Merlin is quiet for a minute, sensing Arthur's impatience all the while, but ignoring it as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"I told Aithusa she was not allowed to harm us ever again," Merlin says. "I told her to leave Morgana's company."

"You told her you would look after her," Guinevere supplies, remembering Merlin's words.

"Yes," Merlin nods. "Morgana is not going to be happy about it, but... I had to. It's my fault Aithusa is the way she is and I need to make it right."

"How is it your fault?" Arthur asks. Then, "Oh, no. The dragon egg for which we were searching. You said it was destroyed with the fortress, but... you took it, didn't you?"

"Yes," Merlin says. "I took it. As the only dragonlord, I couldn't allow it to be destroyed. I would not have been able to live with myself."

"So, what made it hatch after all that time?" Guinevere asks.

"I hatched it."

"_You_? Merlin, do you mean to tell me you _sat_ on a dragon egg?" Arthur asks.

"Of course not," Merlin says, looking up at Arthur. "I called her forth and she hatched. I left her in Kilgarrah's care and apparently, he did not look after her the way I expected." Merlin frowns. "I should have ordered him. Stupid."

"You called her forth?" Guinevere repeats.

"Who is Kilgarrah? Another sorcerer?" Arthur asks, his question overlapping Guinevere's.

Merlin sighs. "I gave her a name and called her. That is what made her hatch." He looks at Arthur, addressing his question. "Kilgarrah is the Great Dragon. You didn't kill him, Arthur. I ordered him away," Merlin confesses, not looking at Arthur.

"Gaius told me the dragon lives, but would say no more about it," Arthur says. "I can't say I'm pleased, Merlin."

"I know and I'm sorry. Please believe me when I tell you he's been our ally since then. He helps me sometimes. He's helped _you_," Merlin says.

"How?"

"Torched most of Agravaine's men when they came looking for us in Ealdor, for one," Merlin says.

"Oh," Arthur says, surprised.

"I don't see him much anymore. He's very old and I think he's..."

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Guinevere says. Arthur looks over at her, puzzled. "He sounds like he's speaking of a friend, Arthur. A friend who is dying."

"Yes," Merlin nods. He abruptly stops walking.

"Merlin?"

"Don't you hear it?" Merlin asks. _Shrieking. Anger. Hatred. Pain._

_ Morgana. Aithusa has just left her._

"Hear what?" Guinevere asks.

"Morgana. She's not taking Aithusa's departure well."

"Should we take a different road?" Arthur poses.

Merlin hears Morgana's final shriek. Then, a sense of calm settles over the forest. "No. She's gone. Fled, out of frustration and heartbreak."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Arthur presses. "She is most definitely the last person I want to see right now."

"Fairly sure," Merlin says. At Arthur's glare, he adds, "The forest is calm now. I don't feel like we're being watched anymore. That's the best I can do."

Arthur studies his servant a moment longer. "Very well."

xXx

"Mordred!" Arthur exclaims, seeing the young knight riding towards them.

"Sire," Mordred calls, nodding at them. "How was your journey?" he asks, choosing his words carefully now that he thinks he's figured out why they've gone.

"Very good, thank you," Arthur answers, stopping his horse. Mordred glances at Guinevere and is happy to see her smiling. When he was following her, one of the things he noticed was she smiled significantly less.

"My lady," he nods respectfully to her.

"Hello, Mordred. Thank you for coming to escort us home," she says.

"You're welcome, my lady." Mordred smiles at his queen. "Merlin," Mordred greets cheerfully.

"Sir Mordred," Merlin answers carefully.

"Come. I'm hungry," Arthur says, starting out again. Guinevere follows, with Mordred and Merlin bringing up the rear.

_"Morgana was waiting for you."_ Mordred's voice enters Merlin's head. It startles the wizard a little, having been so long since they communicated thusly. He looks up at the knight and sees he is looking straight ahead, watching the road.

_"I know. I heard her screams. Is she gone?"_ Merlin answers.

_ "I am not leading you into her grasp if that is what you are asking."_ Mordred looks down at Merlin, his expression hurt. _"I would not do that to you. I wish you would believe me when I tell you I am your friend."_

Merlin doesn't reply at first, conflicted as always. He wants to trust Mordred. He wants to believe him when he says he is loyal to Arthur. However, it is difficult to forget Kilgarrah's warnings.

_"I want to trust you."_

_ "Then, do."_ Mordred's simple answer makes it almost seem possible, as if Merlin can just turn a page and forget the previous chapter.

_"What happened?"_

_ "Her dragon abandoned her and she went mad. Vanished in a whirlwind."_

"You're suddenly quiet back there, Merlin," Arthur calls over his shoulder.

"Tired, my lord," Merlin answers. Arthur grunts noncommittally and Merlin realizes Arthur knows he's lying.

_"Is the queen better?"_ Mordred asks.

_"Better than what?" _Merlin carefully answers.

_"I know there was something very wrong with her. Morgana said some things, but I had suspicions before that. Was __the queen__ under some kind of spell?"_

_ "Yes. She's been freed of Morgana's enchantment and is fully restored to herself."_

_"You're being intentionally evasive, but I understand. It is the business of the king and queen and you are loyal to them."_

_"Yes."_

The castle comes into view and Merlin sighs audibly, happy to be home.

_"One more question, Merlin."_

Merlin looks up at Mordred. _"You want to know how we lifted Gwen's enchantment."_

_ "Yes. I know you must have done something, but how cou__ld__ you with Arthur there?"_

_ "I told him. He knows."_

Mordred gasps and Guinevere looks back at him. "Is something wrong, Sir Mordred?"

"No, no... sorry, my lady, I'm fine. Might have been stung by a bee..." he says, scrambling for a convenient lie. He even rubs his leg and attempts to look down at it, scowling.

"I'm sure Gaius will have something for that," she says.

"I'm sure," Mordred echoes. "Thank you, my lady." Recollecting his thoughts, he turns his focus back to Merlin_. "He knows and you're still alive_?"

_ "Yes. However, it is not to be made common knowledge while Morgana still lives. Only those closest to the king will be permitted to know."_

Mordred frowns, unsure if he is a part of the king's inner circle.

_"So, you have a decision to make, Mordred,"_ Merlin adds. _"I did not tell him about you."_

_ "Thank you,"_ Mordred says, surprised.

They pass through the gates into the courtyard where Leon is waiting. When he sees the smiles on the faces of the king and queen, the First Knight of Camelot breathes a sigh of relief.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur and Guinevere eat lunch alone in their chambers, still tired from their trip and wishing for some quiet. After lunch, Guinevere called for a hot bath followed by rest, so Merlin and Arthur left her in the care of her maids and headed to Gaius' rooms.

"You know, for being king, it's bloody difficult to find a place to speak to anyone privately," Arthur observes while they walk. "Well, except for Guinevere, obviously, that's what the royal chambers are for, but if I want to talk to anyone else, it's all big meeting rooms and grand halls."

"That's why we're going to Gaius' quarters," Merlin says. "It's not just a good place to sneak a nap, you know."

Arthur lightly shoves Merlin's shoulder and Merlin startles, surprised and pleased that the king seems to be returning to his old ways around him.

He opens the door and Arthur strides inside. "Hello, Gaius," he greets the physician.

"My lord," Gaius answers, smiling. "I hear everything went well and the queen is restored to herself once again."

"Yes, thankfully," Arthur sighs heavily, plopping onto a chair. "I never want to have to deal with something like _that_ again."

"No one should have to deal with something like that," Merlin comments. He sits near Arthur.

"How is she?" Gaius asks, stepping over from a table where he is preparing some potions. He had gotten some information from Merlin when they first returned, but it was very brief.

"Tired and heartsick, but good," Arthur says. "She ate heartily at lunch and is having a bath now, then she plans on resting until dinner."

"Should I look in on her in a little while?" Gaius asks.

"I think that would be a good idea," Arthur agrees.

Gaius nods and returns to his task, letting the two younger men talk.

"So, Merlin. What other secrets do you have?" Arthur asks, cocking his head.

"What do you want to know?" Merlin asks.

Arthur gives him an incredulous look. "Well, you're the one that knows what magic you've used, not me, _Merlin._"

Merlin half-shrugs, acknowledging Arthur is right. _It would be easier if he would simply ask questions, but he does have a point._ He looks over and sees Arthur's sword, still on the table from two days ago. "That sword."

"Right, you did say something about this," Arthur says, reaching for it. "It's the finest weapon I've ever used. I've ever _seen_, in fact." He lifts the sword and inspects it, noting its perfect balance and weight, the way the handle feels designed for his hand, and how the blade never seems to need sharpening. "It's perfect."

"It was forged in a dragon's breath," Merlin says. "Kilgarrah burnished the blade with his fire."

Arthur looks at Merlin. "What does that mean?"

"It means that it is a near-invincible weapon. Your father wielded it to defeat the Black Knight sent by Nimueh. I wielded it against the undead army Morgause made using the Cup of Life. It is an immortal blade." He looks at Arthur. "That means it has the power kill that which is already dead."

Arthur blinks, shocked and a little impressed.

"Kilgarrah blessed the blade for you and you alone. Uther never should have used this sword," Merlin continues.

"Well, what about you? You've used it twice now," Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Special dispensation," Merlin replies, dismissively waving his hand. "Besides, I was using it to help _you_. I got you the sword; I can wield it. Even though it is yours."

Arthur raises an eyebrow at him. "So, the dragon made this..." he muses, looking it over again.

"I didn't say the dragon _made_ it, Arthur. He just... _enhance__d_ it."

"Who crafted it then? I haven't seen craftsmanship this fine since..."

"Since Gwen's father was alive?" Merlin asks pointedly.

"Guinevere's father made this?" Arthur asks. "Does she know?"

"She gave it to me. I don't know if she's noticed this is _that_ sword though. She's never mentioned it," Merlin says, furrowing his brows.

Arthur looks at the weapon with new eyes knowing _this_ sword was crafted by the father of the woman he loves so dearly. The man whose wrongful death he could have prevented. "He was a master," Arthur softly says. "I still feel..."

"I know, Arthur. But, Gwen forgave you long ago. Don't you think it's time you forgive yourself?" Merlin asks.

"I should," Arthur sighs with a slight nod of his head. "Sorry, we're getting off track here. How did this sword get into that boulder if Father first used it all those years ago?"

"Well, after Uther killed the Black Knight, well, re-killed him, I threw it into the lake at Avalon. I had to get it away from your father, so I stole it and snuck out in the middle of the night."

"You had to get it away from my father? Surely, if it was meant for me, you could have just given it to me," Arthur theorizes.

"And explained it how exactly? 'Here's the sword your father used to kill that creepy knight. It's really supposed to be yours, but you can't use it right now because if he sees it he'll want it back and he can't have it because it'll only bring evil in his hands.'? Yes, that would have worked _very_ well," Merlin answers.

"Good point," Arthur allows. He cocks his head at Merlin. "What do you mean, 'it'll only bring evil in his hands'?"

"I wasn't sure myself, at first. It's just what Kilgarrah said, so I accepted it. I was very young then, obviously," Merlin says, glancing over at Gaius when he hears the elderly man's soft snort of amused derision. "But, as I've gotten older, I've realized that power can corrupt. Your sword isn't _just_ a sword, Arthur. It has power. And that's why, in the wrong hands, even your father's, it will only bring evil."

"Oh. Um... oh," Arthur mutters, surprised and touched that the dragon had so much faith in him, even at such a young age.

"You're going to have to get used to the fact that I'm actually smart, Arthur. Sorry." Then, he grins, not sorry at all.

Arthur snorts. "Continue. It was in the lake and you got it out?"

"Yeah. Um, I had help there. I'm not going to tell you _everything_ about that, because it's... well, it's not important right now. Plus, it's... personal."

"Merlin, you know all _my_ personal details," Arthur presses.

Merlin bites his lower lip and looks to the side. Gaius glances at him out of the corner of his eye. He's been listening the entire time, but has said nothing.

"I'll tell you another time. It's not relevant right now," Merlin says. "I _will,_" he adds when he sees Arthur's skeptical look. "It involves a girl, all right? She died, my heart broke, and now her spirit inhabits the lake. She, um, gave me the sword back. From the lake."

Arthur is quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I wouldn't have pressed if I had known."

"You couldn't have known," Merlin says. "It's all right. I'll tell you more about her _another time_," he adds, wanting to get back on track.

"Right. So this... girl... gave you the sword so you could defeat Morgause."

"Well, I didn't use the sword to defeat Morgause. I used it to fight my way past her soldiers so I could get to the Cup and stop her army. _ Th__en_, I hurled her into a stone pillar."

"You fought? _You?_"

Merlin rolls his eyes. "I'm not completely useless and you know it. Plus, Lancelot was with me," he says without thinking.

"Lancelot?"

"Um, yeah. He knew. Sorry." _Open your big mouth, Merlin._ He glances back at Gaius and sees the old physician just slightly shaking his head.

"Hmm," Arthur says. He says nothing for a moment. "I'm not sure how I feel about that, but as he's dead, there's really no point in worrying about it."

"Uh, right," Merlin answers, thrown off guard by Arthur's acceptance of this information. He quickly resumes his story. "As for the sword, I promised Kilgarrah I would hide it again, before you ask," he presses on. "That's when I plunged it into the boulder."

"So... all that talk about my being the true and worthy King of Camelot..." Arthur says, frowning. "You put the sword there... you made up that story... it was all rubbish..." His fingers tighten around the handle of the weapon as he realizes he was deceived – again – and his anger starts to rise.

"No, Arthur, it wasn't rubbish," Merlin quickly says, watching Arthur carefully. "Camelot needed you. Your confidence was gone; you had no feeling of self-worth or self-preservation. You were still smarting over Agravaine's betrayal, still heartbroken over Gwen – yes, I _will_ talk about that," he says, holding his hand up before Arthur can yell at him for bringing up _that_ topic. "It was a factor and you know it as well as I."

"Go on," Arthur says. He's relaxing a bit, but he's still not convinced he wasn't duped.

"You were as low as I'd ever seen you, Arthur. I couldn't just let things be. I had to do _something_. I'm sorry about the... deception, but I think the end justified the means, don't you?"

Arthur slowly nods, grudgingly admitting Merlin is right.

"The sword was a just symbol, you see? The act of pulling it out of the boulder was a device to bring you back to yourself, to help you remember who you are and what your purpose is. The declarations of loyalty from the knights didn't do it. My wonderfully inspirational words didn't do it."

Arthur snorts at this and Merlin smiles.

"You needed something more. Something you believed came from within you," Merlin continues.

"But, it didn't come from within me. _You_ did it."

"Yes, I helped you withdraw the sword from the boulder. But, only when you believed you _could_ do it. I've been your personal manservant for... far too long, Arthur," he chuckles. "I know your moods, sometimes before you do. I could see when you were truly ready to step up and take charge again. My magical assistance in the matter does not change the facts. That sword," he points to the blade still gripped in Arthur's hand, "was indeed meant for you. You were simply claiming it. In a very dramatic way. In front of most of your subjects."

Arthur half-smiles. "It was a pretty impressive sight, wasn't it?" he allows.

"I would have been impressed if I wasn't me," Merlin says.

Arthur laughs.

xXx

"Leon," Arthur calls, spotting the knight as he walks back to the royal chambers.

"My lord," Leon answers, striding quickly over to his king. "I've been looking for you."

"I know, I know, I promised I'd let you know what's going on and I will. I'd like you to arrange a private dinner tonight. Closed doors."

"Of course, my lord," Leon says, furrowing his brows.

"I'd like you, Gwaine, Percival, and Mordred to dine with Guinevere, Merlin, and myself. We have much to discuss."

"Merlin?" Leon asks, growing more confused by the moment.

"I know it's unconventional, but he's to be dining with us tonight, not serving. It is he who has the most information to impart."

"Um, Sire, about the servants at this dinner..." Leon says, recalling the conversation on which he walked in that morning.

"We should only need one or two," Arthur says waving his hand dismissively.

"No, it's not that. There has been some... disloyalty amongst some of them lately. It has been dealt with, so you do not need to concern yourself, but it might be best to dismiss the servants after they bring the food. If this dinner is to be, as you say, private, perhaps we can make do without servants," Leon says.

"What kind of disloyalty? Anything involving Morgana?" Arthur asks, fearing his sister has spies placed within the castle.

"No," Leon definitively answers.

"Gossip, then," Arthur guesses.

"Yes, my lord."

Arthur sighs and shakes his head. "There are a few things that are always true, Leon. The sun always rises in the east. Everyone dies. And, servants will gossip."

"You're taking this rather well, Arthur," Leon says, not bothering to hide his surprise.

"Well, recent events have forced me to examine my priorities," Arthur says, clapping Leon on the shoulder. "Dinner, then. As you recommend."

"Yes, Sire. I will arrange it," Leon nods and heads in the direction of the knights' quarters.

xXx

"I bloody knew there was _something_ about you, Merlin!"

Gwaine is the first to break the heavy silence that falls over the room after Merlin tells the four knights he is a sorcerer. The rakish knight's sudden, exuberant declaration makes Guinevere jump slightly.

Merlin tries unsuccessfully to bite back his grin, shaking his head at Gwaine's tendency to be so cheeky about everything. He knows it's just a front to disguise the fact that he truly is a good man, noble by his deeds (as well as his birth), and suspects the others recognize this as well.

"Arthur?" Leon looks at his king, confused at first. "Wait. Oh, okay. I understand now," he reasons after he's had a moment to think. _Gwen was enchanted. Merlin saved her. That's why he is sitting here with us instead of in the dungeons._

Mordred tactfully says nothing, feigning ignorance as planned. He's decided if asked for his opinion, he will play the "I'm new here" card and stick to it.

Percival also says nothing, but being a man of few words, no one thinks anything of it. He listens intently to everything, absorbing it all, only speaking if he has something worth saying.

"Merlin has done a great service to Camelot and to the queen and me," Arthur explains, reaching over and squeezing Guinevere's hand. "That is why he is not being punished."

"What did he do?" Gwaine asks.

Arthur tells them about Guinevere's enchantment, occasionally aided by Merlin and Guinevere, and how Merlin was able to bring her out of it with Arthur's help.

"That's why you had me following her," Mordred says, speaking for the first time. "You wanted to make sure she didn't do anything."

"Yes," Arthur nods.

"I'd done enough already," Guinevere adds softly. "I tried to kill Arthur twice. So I'm told."

"That was your doing?" Leon asks, stunned. "You even blamed Merlin for..." he stops, realizing he may be overstepping. "Forgive me. I'm merely trying to process all this. I should not have spoken out of turn."

"It's fine, Leon, really. I have almost no memory of the things I did during those days. I... I didn't even remember about Elyan."

"I'm so sorry, Gwen," Leon says, uncharacteristically calling her by name.

"I know, thank you. And I think, right now, we can all agree that speaking freely is for the best, yes?" she asks. "I would hate to have any of you misunderstand something because he was afraid to speak up."

"Guinevere's right," Arthur says. "We needn't observe formalities here. Please, speak your minds."

"Show us," Percival softly says, looking at Merlin. "I would like to see you do something with your magic. Please."

"Yes," Gwaine agrees, setting his mug on the table with a _thud._ "Dazzle us, Wizard," he orders, waving his hand in what he likely thinks is a mystical fashion.

"All right," Merlin says. He looks around the table, thinking. Fixing the candles in the center in his gaze, he lifts his hand, and the flames lift away from the candles, hovering several inches above them. On a whim, he rearranges the flames before he lets them drop back into place.

"Nice," Gwaine nods.

Percival also nods his head approvingly. "You didn't even look like you were trying," he observes.

"Something like that takes very little effort," Merlin says. "Or this." He waves his hand at Gwaine's mug and it refills.

"Hey, brilliant," Gwaine says.

"Don't do that again," Arthur tells Merlin. Gwaine scowls and the other knights chuckle.

"I can do little, everyday things like that almost without thinking. I couldn't always. I've gotten stronger as I've gotten older," Merlin says. He and Arthur agreed the knights don't need to know _all_ the details, so he tries to keep his comments just specific enough to not be deliberately vague. _"They don't need to know about you being the most powerful wizard that ever lived, Merlin. I think we need to keep that well under wraps,"_ Arthur had said. "Big things, like what I did for Gwen yesterday tire me out quite a bit."

"What other big things have you done?" Gwaine asks, leaning forward, intensely curious.

"My lady, how are you feeling?" Mordred asks, steering the topic in a different direction when he sees the look that passes between Merlin and Arthur. He meets Merlin's eyes. _"You don't want them to know everything. That's probably wise."_

Merlin gives him an almost imperceptible nod, then turns his attention to Gwen.

"I'm..." she pauses a moment, "exhausted, really. But, I've had a lovely, quiet afternoon and Gaius looked in on me and pronounced me to be in good health. I think I just need some more rest before I can truly start to deal with what's happened to me and the things I did while I was enchanted."

"It must be very unsettling, not knowing what you did for more than a week," Leon says.

"Quite," Guinevere agrees. "Especially because everything I've learned has been bad. I suppose that's to be expected as I was under Morgana's control, but... well, you remember, Leon. How I would fret over the smallest thing? The time I accidentally knocked over that candlestick while I was helping Mother at your family's home and the candle snapped in two? I was beside myself, and your mother was so kind. She acted like it was nothing."

Leon smiles, nodding. "Yes, you were nearly in tears," he remembers.

"My mother was a maid in Leon's family home. I spent a lot of time there as a child," Guinevere explains, seeing the puzzled looks on the other knights' faces.

"Oh, that explains a lot," Gwaine nods. "I always wondered why the two of you were so close."

"My parents allowed me to play with Gwen and Elyan when we were children," Leon shrugs. "Not all nobles are bad," he pointedly adds, looking directly at Gwaine.

"I'm learning that," the knight answers.

"So, you have no memory at all from that time?" Percival asks.

"Not really. Sometimes I get vague flashes. I think. I dreamt of Elyan and woke up screaming his name. When I told Arthur about my dream, he told me that was exactly what had happened. Gaius has mentioned that I might have more dreams for a while. I shudder to think of what I might have done that no one knows about other than Morgana," she says, reaching for her goblet. Her eyes widen as she lifts it to her lips, as though she's realizing something. Her hand pauses in midair, hovering for a moment. She gasps softly and sets it down.

"Guinevere?" Arthur asks, concerned. "Are you… are you remembering something?"

"Yes, but… it's not a recent memory," she says, her voice hushed. She looks at Arthur, takes a deep breath, presses her lips together, and continues. "I just realized… the last time I felt like this, like there is this... blur... in place of memories was..." Gwen's voice drops to a whisper. "It was when Lancelot returned." She looks down at her plate, cringing inwardly at bringing up this topic.

"Well, that was because of the bracelet though, right? They're probably similar enchantments. This one was just more powerful," Mordred says.

"What?" Guinevere, Arthur and Merlin all chorus, looking at the young knight with shocked expressions on their faces.

Mordred stares back at the three sets of surprised eyes. He realizes the other three knights are staring at him in disbelief as well. "You... you didn't know? Oh, no." His hand comes up over his mouth, horrified. _She didn't know about the bracelet. She thinks she truly was unfaithful to Arthur. No wonder it isn't discussed._

"Mordred... how do you know about the bracelet Lancelot gave me?" Gwen asks, her trembling voice barely audible.

He swallows. "Morgana told me. When I rode out to meet you, Morgana was lying in wait and I intercepted her. She... she was angry you had broken free of her control, but said she'd controlled you one other time and could do it again."

"She _told_ you this?" Arthur asks, incredulous.

"I was trying to keep her talking, my lord, so she wouldn't attack," Mordred says. "People like her... they like to hear themselves talk. It makes them feel important. So, I kept asking questions."

Arthur nods, impressed with the young knight's intelligence. "What else did she say?"

"She told me about... Lancelot, how he returned. She brought him back from the dead as her puppet, intending to tempt Queen Guinevere with whom she believed to be her long-lost," he cringes almost imperceptibly, uncomfortable, "love. But, Morgana didn't realize the queen no longer had any feelings for Lancelot, and had to take other measures. She somehow got you to wear an enchanted bracelet, my lady, and it must have created feelings where there were none."

"Lancelot gave it to me. He said it was a wedding gift and would bring me luck," Guinevere whispers, shaken at this revelation.

"Morgana would have passed it to Lancelot through Agravaine," Merlin says.

"Merlin," Arthur asks, his voice low and slightly tremulous, "did you know?"

Merlin looks at Arthur and Guinevere. Guinevere looks truly shocked as she struggles with the realization that not only had she been under Morgana's control once before, but _she did not knowingly betray Arthu_r_._

Arthur looks ready to kill someone. His jaw is set and his eyes are stormy.

"I did not know about the bracelet, no," Merlin answers.

"But you knew _something,_" Arthur presses.

"I knew the Lancelot who returned was not truly our Lancelot. I didn't know how to tell you without revealing myself, as I had to use magic to prove it," he says. "I became suspicious when he didn't know things he should have. He had no memory of my having magic."

"Lancelot knew?" Leon asks quietly.

"Yes. He saw it the first time he was here, years ago," Merlin says. He looks over at the king, concerned. "Arthur?"

"Don't talk to me right now," Arthur answers, holding his hand up. "I... I can't..." He drops his head for a moment, then looks at Guinevere. "I'm so sorry," he whispers.

"You have nothing for which to apologize, Arthur," Guinevere answers, her voice equally soft and shaky. "We didn't realize. None of us did."

"I should have known you would never... I mean, you're _you._ You would never do anything like the things you did under her control. It's happened _twice_ and twice I didn't even consider…" he slams his palm flat on the tabletop. "Damn it, we blame magic for every _other_ bad thing that happens around here!" Arthur yells. He clenches his fist, trying to regain his composure. When he continues, his voice is low again, but still slightly wavering. He looks at Guinevere and sees tears in her eyes, tears for him. "I should be smart enough to realize that when you are acting differently, _you_ of all people, who I know better than anyone... I should discern that when you're not acting like yourself it means something is very wrong!"

"Arthur, we've been through this. Morgana is careful and clever," Guinevere says, gently taking his hand in between both of hers. She seems composed, but her hands are trembling slightly.

"That is what makes her dangerous, Arthur," Merlin says. "She thinks of all the angles, she knows us all too well, and she uses that information to her advantage."

"Does she know about your magic?" Gwaine asks.

"No. That's why this dinner is private, without any servants. As long as Morgana lives, my magic _must_ remain a secret," Merlin says. He glances at Arthur and Gwen and sees them sitting very close together, their foreheads touching, whispering to each other, Gwen's hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking lovingly.

"Secret weapon," Percival says, nodding. "If she doesn't know, she won't target you. Which is just as well. If she takes _you_ out, it's over. For all of us," he finishes and looks at his brothers-in-arms. Leon, Gwaine and Mordred nod in silent agreement.

Merlin nods as well. "She cannot know," he reiterates, glancing pointedly at Mordred.

_"She does not know. I promise. We keep each other's secrets, Emrys."_

_"Thank you, Mordred."_

xXx

After dinner, Arthur and Guinevere retire to their chambers, still shaken, wondering how many more secrets will come to light.

Arthur glances at a small stack of parchments on his desk, undoubtedly left there for him by Leon. He sighs and turns away from them, deciding there's nothing in that pile so important it can't be ignored until tomorrow. _At the earliest. Guinevere's well-being is my main concern_.

He dismissed Merlin for the night, but not out of anger. Arthur is angrier with himself than anyone right now. Merlin had simply nodded, saying something about attempting to track down the bracelet, even though over three years have passed since Guinevere hurled it into the corner of her cell.

He stands by the window, gazing out over the torchlit courtyard while Guinevere's maid, Ella, helps her prepare for bed. He can hear their soft voices behind him, but he's not listening.

_It all makes so much sense now. I was such a fool. So blinded by my hurt that I was unable to see what was right in front of me. My own insecurity about Lancelot, my own jealousy of the feelings she once had for him, clouded my judgment. I thought I had let go of them, but they were still there. They've been there since we rescued her from Hengist._

Arthur sighs, his heart heavy. _She never gave me any reason to doubt her love after Lancelot turned up again to help, this time bringing Percival with him. I saw the longing glances he gave her, but I wouldn't let myself see that she never returned them. I tried to believe her words at his pyre, how she blamed herself for his death because she asked him to protect me, but I still wondered._

He stops, staring up at the moon, large and bright in the sky.

_ She asked him to protect me._

The words never sunk in before. _Guinevere's request told Lancelot who her choice was once and for all. I had no reason to be insecure. If I had been able to get past that, to see what was right in front of me_, _I might have seen all this and maybe, just maybe would have suspected dark magic._

_ Unfortunately, __there's no way of truly knowing__._

He hears Ella bid her mistress goodnight and turns, setting his gaze on his beautiful wife. As much as he loves seeing her stunningly arrayed in her queenly finery, he prefers her in soft, comfortable attire. The kinds of simple things she wore when he fell in love with her. Guinevere the queen makes his heart swell with pride. Guinevere the woman makes his heart swell with love.

Her nightdresses are lovely and fine, but they are simple and unrestrictive. Arthur loves to hold her close at night, allowing his hands to rove...

"You look beautiful, my love," he says, snapping himself out of his reverie. He walks towards her.

"It's just a nightgown, Arthur," she says, smiling and holding her hands out to him. He takes them and kisses them both, then pulls her into his embrace.

"I know. You always look beautiful and I should always tell you," he says, kissing her hair.

"You do," she says, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him. She pulls back and looks up at him. "Are you all right, Arthur?"

He smiles sadly. "Not really. Are you?"

"Not really." She returns his sad smile, then lifts her face as he lowers his, meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

"I should change clothes," he says, kissing her once more before releasing her. He walks behind the changing screen to retrieve his sleeping trousers and change while Guinevere extinguishes most of the candles.

She slides into bed, leaving just two candles lit for Arthur. He emerges a minute later, clad only in his soft black trousers, and joins his wife in bed, blowing out the final candle just before he curls himself around her with a sigh.

Guinevere snuggles into him, turning to lie facing him. He adjusts so she can rest her head on his shoulder. "Much better than the hard ground," she absently comments.

"Much," Arthur agrees.

They are both tired. Tired of talking about enchantments and Morgana and magic and bracelets and secrets. But, as they lie there silently, absorbing one another, happy to be home even with a cloud over that happiness, Guinevere thinks of one more question.

"Arthur," she says, her fingers lightly caressing his chest, idly toying with the light hair covering it, "when I was enchanted, did we..." she leaves the question hanging and looks up at him.

It only takes a couple of seconds for Arthur to catch her meaning. "Oh. Um, just once."

"Only once?" she asks. _We are normally much... busier... than once in nearly two weeks' time._

"Yes," Arthur answers. "I didn't really think much of it, as you had just been through an ordeal and, um, Elyan..." Guinevere nods understandingly and he continues. "I was content to wait until you were ready."

"That makes sense," Guinevere says. "I wonder if Morgana took that into account."

"I hope not," Arthur says, sounding mildly disgusted. "I'd really rather not think about _her _thinking about _us_ that way."

Guinevere chuckles a little, hooking her leg over one of his. "I must have behaved fairly, um, normally, or you definitely would have noticed," she comments, frowning slightly. _Morgana may know a lot about me, but that's one thing about which she knows nothing of my behavior._

"I did think about that," Arthur confesses, his hand slowly sliding up and down her upper arm while she traces patterns on his chest with her fingers. "I believe you were, um, a bit more aggressive than usual, but... I likely just attributed that to the fact that we hadn't been together in a while."

She takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, closing her eyes. "I... I think I remember, actually," she says a moment later.

"You do?" Arthur asks.

"I think so. I remember..." she pauses, squeezing her eyes shut tightly, "gillyflowers?"

"Yes," Arthur breathes. "What else?"

"You... you picked me up."

"Yes…" he answers, prompting her to remember more.

"I remember... you smelled of soap from your bath. You... kissed my toes?"

"I did," he nods, looking down at her, "all ten of them."

She thinks some more, unconsciously shifting even closer to him as his hand slides from her arm to her hip. "We... we definitely enjoyed ourselves," she finally says, feeling her cheeks heat as the memory becomes clearer.

"We always do," he says, kissing her forehead as a thought comes to him. "Guinevere, I think the reason you remember so much of this is because I was reaching the real you that night, the _real_ Guinevere buried underneath the layers of Morgana's enchantment."

"That does make sense," she says, kissing his chest. "It almost seems it would be unavoidable, actually. Sharing our marriage bed, being as close as two people can be. The real me _would_ emerge under those circumstances, even if only a little bit."

Arthur smiles, his hand lightly caressing her hip, feeling how the silk of her nightdress slides between his hand and her skin. Guinevere's hand stills on his chest, her palm flat over his heart, pressing down slightly as she leans up to kiss his neck.

"I love you so much, Arthur," she whispers, kissing his jaw.

He turns his face towards her and kisses her lips before she can retreat. "I love you, too, Guinevere," he mutters against her lips.

Guinevere's hand slides up into his hair and she opens her mouth for him, inviting him in, her soft, warm tongue enticing him to meet her. Her hand moves to his shoulder, pulling him over her, wanting him closer, wanting more.

"Guinevere," Arthur asks tearing his lips away, "are you sure you want…?"

"Yes, Arthur," she answers, kissing him softly. "Yes, I want this. I need you right now, Love."

Arthur's heart fills to bursting with love and desire for her, his Guinevere, his wife. His lips meet hers once more and his hand slides up to cover one warm, perfectly-sized breast.

"Arthur…"


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin quietly knocks on the doors to the royal chambers the next morning, breakfast in hand, as if today was just another day in Camelot.

Because, as far as anyone _else_ knows, it is.

However, he's taken by surprise when Arthur opens the door instead of just bidding him enter. He immediately puts his fingers to his lips, indicating Merlin should be quiet.

"Is she still sleeping?" Merlin whispers, setting the large tray on the table with hardly a sound. He glances at the thick curtains separating the living quarters from the sleeping quarters.

"Yes, and I am content to let her sleep as long as she needs," Arthur answers. He walks over to the curtains and peeks through the split, checking on his wife. Again. "Part of me is still afraid she's going to wake up enchanted yet again ," he says.

"She won't," Merlin says. He knows Arthur's concern does not come from a lack of confidence in Merlin's abilities and takes no offense. "I will do everything I can to ensure Morgana will not harm her again. I promise."

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur says, sitting at the table. He sits at the end closest to the closed curtains, which is the opposite end from where he usually sits, so Merlin has to move the tray.

"Did she sleep all right? No nightmares?"

"I believe so," Arthur says, holding up his hand when Merlin starts to serve him. He'll wait for Guinevere. "I didn't hear her cry out. She didn't seem agitated at any point."

"Arthur, did _you_ sleep?" Merlin asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Some," Arthur admits. "I'll rest when she's better. I will have some water, please."

"You'll be of no use to her or anyone else if you're not rested," Merlin points out, pouring water into a goblet. "Plus, you get cranky and are quicker to throw things at me when you haven't had enough sleep."

Arthur snorts. "You're probably right. About not being able to help Guinevere, I mean, not about throwing things."

"I'm right about that, too," Merlin says. Then, he yawns.

It's Arthur's turn to raise a questioning eyebrow at Merlin.

"I had a late night myself," Merlin says. "I didn't get anywhere on the bracelet yet, but I talked to Aithusa last night."

"The dragon?" Arthur asks.

Merlin nods, sitting at the table beside Arthur. "Poor thing. I feel just awful about it." He shakes his head. "Never assume anything."

"What?"

"I assumed Kilgarrah would look after her. Guide her. Teach her. I assumed she would be like him." He looks at Arthur, his expression pained. "I could have ordered Kilgarrah to take care of her, and I didn't. Because I didn't know if I _should._ I didn't know if it would be an abuse of my power."

"Um, Merlin," Arthur says, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "isn't that why you have that power and authority? Aren't you _supposed_ to look after the dragons?"

Merlin nods, surprised at Arthur's insight, especially concerning something magical.

"If there's one thing I know in all my years leading men into battle, it's what you said earlier: never assume anything. Sometimes you have to state the obvious to make sure _everyone _understands."

"And even then, you'll still have a few people who don't," Merlin adds, chuckling.

"In simple terms, there's no such thing as idiot-proof plan, because there's no accounting for every form of idiocy," Arthur simply states, leaning back in his chair. He glances back towards the curtains again.

"Right," Merlin agrees. "So, now I'm trying to make things right. I've got her safely hidden, don't worry about that," he says. "No one is going to happen upon her while hunting or on patrol."

"Where is she?"

Merlin thinks a minute. "I don't think I should tell you," he decides. "For your safety, not hers. Aithusa is the one being about whom Morgana cares, remember."

Arthur nods, disappointed but comprehending Merlin's reasoning.

"Perhaps one day she'll be able to roam free," Merlin muses. "Anyway, I think we understand each other. She can't speak, but I'm going to try to help her with that."

"So... what's his name? Kilgarrah? _He_ can speak?" Arthur asks.

"Yes. He doesn't always answer questions directly and I think he enjoys being cryptic, but he can speak just as plainly as you or I," Merlin says.

"Huh," Arthur says. It never occurred to him that a beast like that would be able to converse.

"Aithusa is starting to trust me, I think. She's still skittish, but knows I won't hurt her and I promised I'd take good care of her. She even let me give her a little hug."

Arthur makes a puzzled, slightly disgusted face.

"She's young, Arthur. Just a child. She needs love and guidance right now."

"I know that," Arthur comments. "Just... hugging a dragon seems... odd."

"I've ridden Kilgarrah," Merlin says, goading him now. "Twice." Arthur narrows his eyes in skepticism. Merlin continues. "It's like traveling on a great flying horse."

"Be serious, Merlin. I don't believe for one second—"

"Arthur?" Guinevere's soft voice comes from behind the curtain.

"Right here, my love," Arthur answers, standing.

"I'll go fetch Ella, then, shall I?" Merlin asks as Arthur reaches the curtains.

"Yes, thank you," Arthur says, disappearing. "Good morning, Love ," he says, reaching for her dressing gown.

Guinevere greets him with a sleepy smile. "Good morning," she says as he bends to kiss her forehead.

Merlin has their breakfast set up by the time Guinevere emerges, dressed and looking tired but still radiant. "Good morning, Merlin," she greets him with a smile.

"Good morning, my lady," he answers. "How are you?"

"I've been better, but I've also been worse," she sighs, sitting in the chair he is holding out for her and granting him a small smile as he slides her in.

"Yes, you're here, you're safe, and you're yourself," Merlin nods.

"Thanks to both of you," she says, reaching for Arthur's hand. He takes her hand and lifts it to his lips. "Arthur, you're not eating," she observes. "You're still troubled."

"Yes, I am," he admits.

"So am I," she agrees. "Please try to eat though. Going hungry will not solve our problems."

Arthur takes a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully. "Guinevere, I would like to talk about Lancelot," he says. "About what happened... then. With the bracelet."

"I think that is a good idea," Guinevere says.

"I'll leave you two alone," Merlin says, heading for the door.

"No, Merlin, please stay," Guinevere says. "You may be of some help to us."

"Arthur?" Merlin automatically defers to the king.

"You heard the queen, you don't need my approval," Arthur says, smirking slightly.

"Please, sit," Guinevere says. "Have you eaten? Have some food."

"Thank you," Merlin says, taking a few morsels of meat, bread, and fruit.

"Guinevere, I'm sorry. For so much," Arthur starts. Guinevere starts to protest again, and Arthur gently raises his hand, asking her to let him continue. "I need to say this. I'm sorry for banishing you. I'm sorry for not considering that the change in your behavior was caused by an outside influence. And, I'm sorry we never talked about it after you returned. It was wrong of me. Well, it was all wrong, but I shouldn't have declared that we simply sweep everything under the carpet and pretend it never happened. It _did_ happen, and instead of hiding, we should have dealt with it and our feelings."

Guinevere is quiet a moment. She delicately dabs her eyes with her napkin and says, "Thank you, Arthur. You know I understood your actions regarding the banishment. You acted mercifully when you could have had me executed. And, I cannot fault you for not considering that dark magic was at work, because I didn't suspect it myself."

"I fear I should be the one apologizing for that," Merlin says. "I knew Lancelot was not his true self. But... even I did not suspect Morgana's influence had reached as far as it had."

"Why were we all so content to think Guinevere succumbed to temptation?" Arthur sharply asks. "She has always acted above reproach in everything. Why was it so easy to believe that she would just... _fall_ like that?"

"Because it was the only explanation available to any of us," Guinevere says, her voice nearly a whisper. "Once I had that bracelet off..." she looks at Arthur. "I tore it from my wrist and cast it into the corner of my cell seconds after I was locked in," she explains. "As soon as it was off, this... cloud of confusion seemed to lift. I knew what I had done. But, for the life of me, I could not fathom _why._ I loved you. _Only_ you. I have only ever loved you, Arthur."

"You have?" Arthur asks.

"Yes. I never loved Lancelot. It was... an infatuation, nothing more. It _may_ have grown into something deeper, had either of us given it the opportunity, but... my heart has always belonged to you, Arthur, even when I thought we could never be," she explains, holding his hand on the tabletop.

Arthur leans over and ardently kisses her, overcome with emotions.

"Tell me more, please, Love," he says. "Tell me what you remember. All of it. Please."

"I remember... when Lancelot took off his helmet and revealed himself to me at the tournament... I remember being very confused." She looks at Merlin. "You said he sacrificed himself to the veil to close it, to save us all from those... things."

"He did. I saw him," Merlin answers.

"And... then, the guilt. The guilt I felt over his death came back. I tried to feel relieved that he wasn't dead, but he still _did_ it. Still sacrificed himself because I asked him to protect you, Arthur."

"He may have done so even if you had asked nothing of him," Merlin says. "It would not have been out of the realm of possibility, you have to admit."

"Perhaps," Guinevere says.

"Lancelot and I spoke of you. Before he died. Died the first time, I mean," Merlin said. "When he was to take me back to Gaius to heal me from the Dorocha's attack, we spoke of you."

"You did?" Guinevere asks. Arthur looks very intrigued by this as well.

"I asked him quite directly if he still thought fondly of you," Merlin says.

"Merlin!" Guinevere gasps, slightly shocked at her friends forwardness with such an issue.

"You are my friend, and I care about you. Lancelot was also my friend. I needed to make sure things were going to be all right for _both_ of you," Merlin explains.

"What did he say?" Arthur asks.

"He said no, but... I'm not sure I believed him. He went on to explain that you were the better man, Arthur, and he simply wanted Gwen to be happy."

"Hmm," Arthur answers.

"Yes. Sounded to me like the words of a man in love with someone he could not have," Merlin says. "Sorry, Gwen," he adds.

"No, no, you're... you're right. But, the times he left, he did so by his own choosing. So, if he was pining, he has no one on which to place blame but himself," Guinevere says, but her voice is not unkind.

"Wait, if he promised you he'd protect me, why did he volunteer to bring Merlin back to Camelot?" Arthur asks. "That doesn't sound like the actions of a man honoring his promise."

"Hey, you're right..." Merlin says.

"I didn't know that," Guinevere says.

They all puzzle over this for several silent moments. "Probably because he knew about my magic," Merlin finally says. "That's what saved me. Water fairies."

"_What?_" Arthur asks.

"That's another story for a different day," Merlin waves him off. "Gwen, Lancelot still cared a great deal for you. That's all I was trying to say."

"I... I know," Guinevere nods. "I am neither blind nor stupid, but I no longer felt those feelings for him. Even when he returned with Percival... I was pleased to see him, but only because he had arrived to help _you,_" she adds, looking at Arthur.

He smiles at her and squeezes her hand. "How did you get the bracelet?"

Guinevere sighs and continues her story. "He came to my house. I was surprised, shocked even, that he would be so bold as to come, unchaperoned, to the home of the woman betrothed to the king. He promised me he only wanted to wish me well. Offer his congratulations on our marriage. I expressed my feelings of guilt over his death, and he assured me I was not to blame. He told me I'd be a wonderful queen, then gave me the bracelet. Called it a "token of good fortune" and placed it on my wrist."

"Did he touch it? The metal of the bracelet?" Merlin asks.

"Does that matter?" Arthur asks.

"It may. It may not. Just trying to sort out the details of the enchantment," Merlin says.

Guinevere closes her eyes. "Yes. Yes, he did. He..." she furrows her brows, "he didn't even give me a choice in the matter, come to think of it. He took my hand and placed it on me. Then, he kissed my forehead."

Arthur scowls, unhappy.

"Interesting," Merlin mutters.

"I remember being uncomfortable with his proximity. He was too close, and I didn't like it. When he leaned in to kiss my forehead, I... I flinched," she adds. "After that, everything is cloudy until the dungeon. It's not like this latest ordeal, where I remember almost nothing. That was more like..." she pauses, thinking, trying to put her feelings into words, "a waking dream. More a nightmare, actually. Things made sense at the time, sort of, but when I removed the bracelet, nothing made sense."

"Right," Merlin says, nodding. "It was the same for me when Morgana put the Fomorrah in my neck, remember?"

"Ugh, how could I forget?" Gwen says, making a face, remembering watching Gaius dig the nasty creature out of the back of Merlin's neck.

"Fomorrah?" Arthur asks.

"Um, Gwen's not the first person Morgana has enchanted into trying to kill you, Arthur," Merlin says. "I spent a couple of days that way, myself, actually. Gwen and Gaius helped me deal with that and basically kept me from succeeding."

"When was this?" Arthur asks.

"That time you were about to step into your bath and I was there instead of Merlin," Guinevere says, biting back her smile at the memory. "I had just knocked Merlin unconscious with a pitcher. He had turned your bathwater into acid."

"Oh," Arthur says, blushing slightly, though he has no reason to blush anymore. "That's why you were acting so strangely. Both of you were, I recall."

"Yes," Merlin concurs. "With the exception of that occurrence, every time you caught me doing something odd, I was likely doing something involving magic to save your royal backside from some sort of threat. Sometimes, you didn't even know you were in danger," he explains. Then, he turns back to Guinevere. "The point I am trying to make is I've been under Morgana's control as well, Gwen. I know exactly what you mean, and 'waking dream' is the perfect description."

Arthur slowly nods, understanding. "I've had dreams where, when I wake up, I realize everything in the dream is wrong. Like I'd be on a quest, and Leon and Gwaine are with me, but they look nothing like the real Leon and Gwaine. And, the quest is to find a rare chicken's-milk cheese for my father, who is a goat."

Guinevere laughs at this, unable to help herself. "Is that an actual dream you've had?"

"Yes," Arthur answers. "The funny part is the goat actually did look like Father..."

Merlin's laughter joins Guinevere's now and a moment later, Arthur is also laughing.

"Chickens don't give milk," Guinevere says, still giggling.

"I know that," Arthur says. He sighs. "I nearly forgot what it feels like to laugh," he observes. He takes a drink. Guinevere pushes her plate aside. Merlin takes another bite of food.

"How did you know Lancelot was not the real man, Merlin? I mean, how did you prove it?" Arthur asks.

"Magic, obviously. I have a few things hidden. A couple books. Some other items. Sometimes, I need to research things," he says with a shrug, not apologizing for having illegal items stashed in the castle.

"Hidden where?" Arthur asks.

Merlin gives him a look clearly stating he has no intention of answering that question. "I set a magical trap of sorts. It didn't catch him. He merely had to walk across a drawing I had made on the floor. When he did, his appearance... changed. I could see the bones of his skull through the skin of his face."

"Goodness," Guinevere gasps softly.

"What was he?" Arthur asks.

"A shade. An... an empty shell of his former self. Similar to Gwen's recent enchantment, actually. He was a vessel, and Morgana filled him with information and purpose. Only there was none of the real Lancelot left in him at all, where you still had some of yourself hidden, Gwen."

"So, everything he knew, he learned from Morgana," Arthur says.

"Yes. And that's why he didn't know of my magic," Merlin confirms. "Gwen, is there anything else you remember?"

"Nothing you don't already know," she says, cringing at the thought of what she was made to do, at the realization that Morgana enchanted her to kiss a dead man. "I explained it to Arthur when we were in the council chambers that day... how I couldn't help myself, how I couldn't explain why I did what I did... it all makes sense now."

"Now," Arthur echoes. "Now, not then. _Now,_ nearly four years later." His hands grip the arms of his chair tightly, his jaw clenching. "It was all Morgana. All of it." He looks at Merlin. "She is not my sister."

Merlin nods once and pauses thoughtfully before he continues. "I heard Lancelot talking to Agravaine that night. The night when... well, you know what happened. Agravaine praised Lancelot, telling him Morgana would be pleased."

"And you could say nothing about this to Arthur," Guinevere says, understanding. "It must have been very difficult."

Merlin nods. "Every time I tried to catch Agravaine in his treachery, he was one step ahead of me. I knew he was in league with her, but I couldn't prove it without exposing myself," he huffs, showing his deep irritation .

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur says, his own anger dissolving in the face of Merlin's frustration with his own helplessness. _Suddenly, so many things make perfect sense._

"I know, Arthur," Merlin says. "It was frustrating for me, but... I knew without proof you'd never believe the word of a servant, even your personal manservant who has been faithful to you for years, over the word of a family member, especially your uncle." He looks at Arthur. "Even though you hadn't seen him in years and he had no idea about what was truly right for Camelot and had repeatedly given you bad advice because he was secretly serving Morgana," he adds.

"Yes, thank you for pointing all that out, Merlin," Arthur answers, frowning.

"Just because I understood doesn't mean I liked it," Merlin points out.

Arthur looks at Merlin for a long moment. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I realize I cannot change the past, but know that I am truly sorry."

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin says. He stands and starts clearing their breakfast. "I know you cannot change the past, but I ask you to be mindful of the future. Repair the things your father left broken."

"I will try," Arthur says, taking Guinevere's hand again.

"Thank you, Merlin," she says. "For everything." She looks at Arthur and says, "Thank you for allowing me to tell you. It wasn't a pleasant memory, but I'm glad you know everything now."

"Me, too," Arthur says, kissing her hand. "I'm glad we've gotten at least one mystery solved," he adds. _Unfortunately, there are other mysteries yet to be solved, but__…__ I do _not _have the energy to think about those right now._

"Gwen, Gaius has ordered more rest for you," Merlin says, remembering. "Arthur, you need to meet with the Council this morning."

"Ugh, yes, thank you," Arthur says, making a face. "It's very high on my list of Things I Do Not Want to Do This Morning."

Merlin grunts a short laugh, turns sharply on his heel, and heads for the door.

Arthur calls to him, his servant's behavior jogging something in his brain. "Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"The old sorcerer..."

Merlin stills and turns to look at Arthur, willing his face to be casual. "What of him?"

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Who is he?"

"That is a conversation for another day, Arthur," Merlin says. He nods once and exits.

xXx

Merlin stops at the kitchens and drops off the breakfast tray, then heads back to his room.

_"__Merlin.__"_ The sorcerer turns and looks around until he finds Mordred. He walks over to him.

"Aren't you supposed to be at training?" Merlin asks.

"No training this morning. It's after lunch. I'm supposed to be studying," he says.

"Then, why aren't you?"

"Don't need to. I've had the Knights' Code memorized for weeks," Mordred answers, shrugging as if this is no great accomplishment.

"Oh," Merlin blinks. "What can I do for you?" he asks. Some servants approach, their arms full of linens, and the two men step aside to let them pass. "Are those going to the royal chambers?" Merlin calls.

"Yes," the maid answers, nodding.

"Good, thank you," Merlin asks. "Sorry," he apologizes for the interruption. "No rest for the weary."

Mordred nods in understanding. He knows full well how much Merlin does for the king and queen as well as Gaius, and has seen how the other servants automatically defer to him without a thought. "I would like to talk to you," Mordred says. "Privately, if you will."

"All right," Merlin says, looking around. "Let's go outside. I told Gaius I'd gather some herbs for him. You can accompany me into the forest. We should be able to speak freely there." He briefly wonders why Mordred is worrying about privacy when they are easily able to communicate solely with their minds, but doesn't think too much of it. _I suppose, it could look strange._

They head outside, Merlin with a bag slung over his shoulder, and walk towards the forest beyond the castle.

"You do the work of at least two men, Merlin," Mordred observes, making small talk until they are safely in the woods.

"I'm glad _someone_ noticed," Merlin answers wryly. "The queen is very good about making sure the king doesn't overwork me _too_ much," he adds. "But, between being Arthur's servant, Gaius' assistant, and Arthur's unofficial secret bodyguard, yes, I'm stretched a bit thin. It's been easier now that Gwen has her own maid again. I mean, not that I would help her _dress_ or anything like that, but after Sefa... left... Gwen didn't have a dedicated maidservant, so occasionally she'd go without and I'd step in where I could. Ella's been a godsend."

Mordred nods. "I imagine after what happened with Sefa, safety is a concern."

"Safety is _always_ a concern," Merlin says, a little darker than he intended.

"I know," Mordred agrees.

They step into the forest and out of the bright sunshine. The air is cooler as they walk on the shaded path. "I assume you want to talk to me about magic?" Merlin asks, crouching down to pick some mint leaves he spied a few feet off the path.

"Yes," Mordred says. "There's chamomile just there, too, if you need that," he points.

"Thank you," Merlin says. He says nothing more, waiting for Mordred to speak.

"I wanted to say how much I admire your bravery, Merlin. You... you did what was right, knowing the consequences could be dire for yourself."

"To be completely honest, I didn't think Arthur would actually kill me," Merlin confesses. "I figured at worst, he'd banish me."

"The queen wouldn't allow him to kill you," Mordred theorizes.

"Arthur wouldn't allow _himself_ to do it," Merlin corrects.

"You really have faith in him, don't you?"

Merlin stands and looks at the young Druid knight. "I do. I have to, or I'm not doing my job."

"Merlin..." Mordred says, falling into step beside the older man as he rejoins him on the path, "what do you think he'd do if he found out about me? About my magic?"

Merlin is quiet for a long moment. "I don't know, but I will tell you this: if you want to tell him, now is the time. The sooner you tell him, the better it will be for you."

"You're sure it won't be _another_ shock piled on top of the others?" Mordred asks.

"Well, there is that, but since he knows about me, and _you_ know about me, and _he_ knows _you_ know about me..."

"The less secrets, the better," Mordred nods.

Merlin bends and picks some sprigs of nettle. "I think you should tell him. As soon as possible."

"Will you be there?" Mordred asks, suddenly seeming very much the young boy he is. Nervous, unsure, needing help and guidance.

"Of course," Merlin answers immediately. "Mordred," he adds, looking up, "thank you for telling everyone about Morgana. I'm sorry you wound up being the bearer of another surprise, but..." he stands, wiping his hands on his trousers, "your loyalty did not go unnoticed."

"By Arthur?"

"By me," Merlin says. "As I said, I _want_ to trust you. You are showing me that I can."

"Thank you," Mordred says, his bright blue eyes shining. "I promise you will not be disappointed."

"I certainly hope not," Merlin smiles. "Come on, there's some mallow over there I need."

"Need any bella donna? There's a huge bush over here," Mordred points out.

"Not today. Gaius tries not to use it much," Merlin says. "I see your upbringing with the Druids remains intact," he observes. "You certainly know your plants."

"I have retained some things more than others," Mordred sighs.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asks.

"Merlin, my magic is weak. I don't use it, and it's weakened. Possibly dormant," Mordred admits.

Merlin is shocked. "But... but you were so _powerful_, even as a boy..." he gasps, stopping in his tracks.

"I know. To be honest, it frightened me. To be so powerful at such a young age." He runs his hand along the bark of a nearby tree. "I had difficulty controlling it. I got so… I was... angry all the time. I would destroy things without realizing it." He sighs. "So, I stopped using it. I couldn't control it, so I pushed it down."

"You used it to communicate with me yesterday and just now , in the corridor," Merlin points out.

"Yes, and honestly, it was exhausting. Why do you think I haven't done it since I've been back?" he asks.

"I did wonder. I mean, when you were little, it was almost exclusively how you communicated with me," Merlin remembers.

"I was a little monster," Mordred grumbles.

"You were a child," Merlin says sympathetically . "You were a child with abilities beyond your understanding."

"You know how hard it is to control it, Merlin. To hide it. I found when my feelings ran high, the magic would come unbidden."

Merlin nods. "Yes. I can't say I have the same issue, but, there were days where I'd have to go off by myself, even for five minutes, and do something, _anything,_ just to get it out. Turn flowers different colors," he says, waving his hand at a nearby daisy, turning the white petals yellow, "redirect the raindrops so they wouldn't land on me. Levitate a toad. Stupid things."

Mordred smiles a little. "Imagine, then, having to restrain your magic while trying to learn how to be a knight. I'm afraid if I ever see battle I'll just... lose control of it in the heat of the moment and... hurt everyone, or worse. Even our friends."

"Your magic is closely tied to your emotions," Merlin observes, nodding.

"It seems to be. Even dueling during training, I... I can't concentrate fully on my swordsmanship or footwork because I always have to keep my magic from... manifesting."

"That means your magic hasn't gone dormant. It's just… atrophied a bit from lack of use."

"It's getting more difficult to handle," Mordred softly says.

Suddenly, Merlin understands. "You want to tell Arthur so I can help you. Properly help you."

"Yes," Mordred sighs. "_Will_ you help me, Merlin?"

"Yes, I will," Merlin says. "But, we need to go about this in the appropriate manner."


	8. Chapter 8

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asks, lying down on the bed beside Guinevere, where she is seated on top of the covers, propped against the headboard amid a mountain of pillows, sewing. He plops his head in her lap, right on top of her work.

"Arthur! You're going to get poked in the head!" she exclaims, and he chuckles impishly. "I'm doing fine, considering," she answers his question, caressing his face in her lap. "How was the Council meeting?" She carefully extracts her sewing from under his head and sets it aside.

"Ugh," he groans, turning his face to press against her stomach. "Dreadfully boring. I found out everything that happened while we were gone, but there was absolutely _nothing_ interesting about it."

"That's good though," she counters. "We want it to be quiet and dull while we're away."

"Yes, but a simple, 'Nothing interesting happened in your absence' would have sufficed. I don't need a blow-by-blow description."

Guinevere giggles. "Well, that's Leon for you. He's nothing if not thorough."

"Yes, 'thorough' is definitely the word," he says, lifting up from her lap, grabbing her by the waist, and sliding her downwards until her face is even with his.

"Arthur!" she yelps.

He kisses her, his lips soft and warm.

A knock sounds at the door, and Arthur assumes it is Merlin with their lunch. "Come," he calls, lifting his head only long enough to bid Merlin enter before returning his attention to his wife.

"Ahem."

Arthur drops his head against Guinevere's shoulder. "George," he groans, softly enough for only her to hear. The king and queen quickly exit the bed, Guinevere smoothing her dress and hair. "George," Arthur repeats, "where is Merlin?"

"Apologies, Sire, but Merlin has asked me to serve you lunch in his stead, and, er, relay a message," George answers, his clipped tone _almost_ completely hiding his discomfort in entering the royal chambers to discover his sovereigns in such a state.

Arthur walks toward the table, Guinevere on his arm. "Well?" he asks, seating the queen himself rather than allowing George to hold her chair for her.

"Thank you," she whispers, smiling at Arthur as he sits.

George clears his throat and frowns. "His words were – and mind you, these are _his_ words, my lord – 'Tell the king I am dealing with an important matter and will attend to him as soon as I am available.' Sire." He doesn't mask his opinion that Merlin is being insubordinate and disrespectful, and waits to bear the brunt of Arthur's explosion.

It doesn't come. Arthur purses his lips a moment, then simply says, "Very well. Thank you."

"Yes... Sire," George answers, thrown off balance. He recovers by diving into serving their lunches, striving to ensure everything is perfectly arrayed and within reach. Once he's finished pouring the wine, he steps back, waiting patiently.

"Thank you, George," Arthur says. "You may go."

"Sire?"

"You are dismissed," he explains.

"When should I return to clear this away, my lord?" he asks, bewildered.

"Do not concern yourself. Merlin will take care of it when he arrives," Arthur says.

"You've done an excellent job as always, George," Guinevere helpfully adds. She knows Arthur doesn't much care for George and has a tendency to be brusque with him.

"Thank you, my lady. My lord," George says, a slightly sour expression on his face. He hesitates a moment longer, bows, and exits.

"You didn't need to dismiss him, Arthur," Guinevere says, reaching for a hunk of bread.

"I did, actually, and not only because he gets under my skin," Arthur answers. "I... I was wondering if you would tell me about what happened while you were... away."

Guinevere looks at Arthur. "Away during my banishment, you mean?"

"Yes," he whispers. She can tell he still feels terrible about the whole ordeal.

She closes her eyes a moment, thinking back nearly four years. "What would you like to know?" she softly asks, opening her eyes.

Arthur notes the sadness and pain in them, and almost changes his mind. _No. I need to hear, and it will be good for her to talk about it_. "Where did you go? What did you do? How did you wind up at Merlin's mother's house?" He sighs. "Just... everything. What happened to you during that time? I only know I was miserable here without you."

"I know, Arthur," Guinevere says sympathetically. She looks down at her plate, pushing bits of food around as she gathers her thoughts, deciding where, exactly, to begin. "I left here and headed east, towards Lot's kingdom. I stayed with my mother's friend Mary... you remember, she came here to ask for help with what turned out to be the Lamia?"

Arthur nods, picking at his lunch. "What reason did you give her for leaving Camelot?" he asks, curious.

Guinevere bites her lip, then says, "I told her my heart was broken, it was my doing, and I could no longer remain in Camelot. She looked after me like my own mother would have."

"She seemed like a nice woman."

"She knew I was heartbroken over you," Guinevere adds. "I didn't tell her, even when she came to you for help, but... she could see it."

Arthur nods again. "How long were you there?"

"Only a few days. Helios and his men soon arrived and ransacked the village," she continues. "He was recruiting 'volunteers' for his army and taking any able-bodied men he could find. If anyone refused, they were killed. The old and infirm were largely ignored unless they got in the way. Most of the women hid with the children."

"Where were you?" Arthur asks.

"I was cleaning out the pig sty," she says. "So, I hid there and waited for an opportunity to run. When I did, Helios' men found me."

Arthur's face clouds, remembering the savage warlord, knowing his intentions towards his sweet wife would not have been good. His hands unconsciously clench as possible scenarios begin to play through his brain, each one fouler than the last.

"I was on the ground," Guinevere continues, her voice very soft now. "One of the men had his sword pointed at me, looming... I didn't know whether he meant to kill me or... or worse." She stops talking for a moment and dabs her eyes with her napkin. "Then, Helios appeared and stopped him."

"Oh," Arthur says, surprised, but still wary. "I had no idea you had encountered Helios," he adds, frowning worriedly.

Guinevere looks up at Arthur. "He looked down at me and said, 'There's still some pleasure to be had here.' I was grateful not to be killed, but the way he looked at me... like... like I was his next meal..." her voice trails off and she shudders, the memory of his lecherous gaze still fresh in her mind. "I'll never forget those words. Or the look on his face." She takes a deep, trembling breath and wipes her eyes again.

Arthur, filled with a sickening combination of rage, guilt, and pain, digs his fingernails into the wooden arms of his chair, gripping it almost painfully. He looks at his beautiful wife and a tear slips from his eye. "I'm so sorry, Guinevere," is all he can manage.

"My choice was go with him or be killed," she explains. "I _ha__d_ to go with him and... and hope fate would intervene before he decided to..."

Arthur can only nod, the prospect of what could have befallen his Guinevere too much for him to bear.

She takes a sip of water, then another deep breath. "He gave me clean clothes and food, and insisted I dine with him. I would have preferred to go hungry and keep my own company, but I didn't feel I could refuse and remain... intact. His manners were polite, but his eyes... I've never been the object of such brazen _lust_ before."

Arthur still says nothing, grinding his jaw in frustrated anger. He finds himself wishing Helios was still alive so he could find him and kill him himself as tears of rage, sympathy, and remorse begin to roll down his cheeks.

Guinevere continues, looking at her plate again. "He wanted to know all about me. I didn't tell him who I really was or what had happened, only my name. Looking back, I wonder if I should have given him a false name... perhaps Morgana wouldn't have come after me then," she ponders.

"Wait, what? You're skipping ahead, Love," Arthur says, wiping his face. The mention of Morgana surprises him. _I didn't know she also crossed paths with Morgana while she was away. Who else... what else confronted h__e__r__?__ How much did she suffer?_

"Sorry," she apologizes, looking at him. She notices her husband's tear-filled eyes, hesitates, but at his nod, soldiers on. "While I was dining with Helios and feeding him lies about my past, one of his men arrived and informed him Morgana was approaching and wished to meet with him."

"What did you do?" Arthur asks, not realizing Guinevere had known about Morgana's alliance with Helios before he did.

"Inside, I panicked. I knew she could _not_ see me. So, I made some hasty excuses and fortunately, he allowed me to leave. I actually passed her in the cavern in which we were staying, but the clothing Helios gave me had a long veil, so I covered the lower half of my face and looked down and away, like a proper serving girl. She didn't notice me, thankfully."

"What did you do next?" Arthur asks, relieved she escaped being detected.

"I made my way back and listened. Not that evening, but when Morgana returned the next day."

Arthur, marveling at how brave and loyal Guinevere was, is without words. _She risked her life for me, for Camelot, even while banished. What if she were caught? What would Morgana have done to her? What would Helios have done_? He doesn't really want to dwell on those thoughts, but the horrific images he had imagined earlier come flooding back.

"She had the plans of the siege tunnels, Arthur." Guinevere's soft voice interrupts his pondering.

"Agravaine... he must have concocted that story... he killed an innocent boy, Guinevere, to get those plans. Merlin tried to warn me... but the plans were in the vaults when we checked." He looks at her, his watery eyes wide. "You were the one who told Merlin..."

Guinevere nods, realizing Merlin must not have told Arthur it was she who informed him.

"But, how?" Arthur puzzles. _When had Merlin been in contact with Guinevere?_

"Morgana must have had the plans copied. I heard her tell Helios that Agravaine was her spy. Then, I moved, trying to see better, and a rock slipped, giving me away. I knew, if found, they would kill me, so I fled."

"They followed?"

Guinevere nods. By this time, their lunches have been completely forgotten. "Helios must have told Morgana my name, and they pursued me. I've never run so far, so hard." As the unpleasant and painful memories surface, her face reflects the anguish she felt at that time . Arthur reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing lightly, his thumb skating across her knuckles as fresh tears fall from her eyes. "I hid from them in the river."

Arthur's brows rise in surprise. "In the river? You mean you...?"

"I held my breath until it felt like my lungs were going to burst," she says. "I was safe for the night. Cold and frightened, but safe. Unfortunately, Morgana quickly found me in the morning. She can track nearly as well as you."

"I know," Arthur grumbles. "Dear God, Guinevere, I'm so sorry. I know how much you hate the woods. I remember how jumpy you always were when we were there."

"I had very real threats about which to be worried this time," she whispers. Then, she squeezes his hand once before continuing. "I tried to run, but there is no running from Morgana. She threw me into a tree and I fell, unconscious." Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will out of his mind the image of his Guinevere, crumpled on the forest floor. Unfortunately, it remains with unsettling clarity.

"I imagine that is when she pulled your betrothal ring from around my neck, where I had been wearing it."

"On a leather thong, yes," Arthur says, remembering how he held that ring, turning it over and over in his hands, letting it dangle from the thong, then sliding it up between his fingers to bring the ring back to his hands again. How when he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, he could detect the faint scent of Guinevere on the leather.

She nods. "When I woke up, I knew something was different. I was confused. I didn't feel right. I didn't feel like myself."

"What had she done?"

"She enchanted me. For the second time, apparently. From what I've figured out, I was still myself, but to others, I would appear as a doe."

Arthur stares, saying nothing for a minute. "She would have known it was the festival of Istara..." He remembers the young doe they spotted, and his blood goes cold.

Guinevere nods. "I heard the shouts and the dogs. Merlin found me, just ahead of your hunting party. Then, I saw you. I could hardly believe it." She pauses. A very particular memory emerges. "I remember seeing you raise your crossbow. Your aim was squarely fixed on me," Guinevere continues, her voice wavering and thick with tears. "I... I froze. I couldn't move..."

"God, Guinevere," Arthur chokes out. "I... had no idea..." Horror courses through his veins as he thinks about what he _almost_ did.

Guinevere pushes on, caught up in her memories. "I've thought about this quite a bit, and now that I know Merlin has magic, some things make sense. The bolt from your crossbow missed me. You _wouldn't_ have missed. Merlin must have... he must have somehow seen my true form and redirected your shot. But, another one hit. I managed to limp away and hide."

"You were hit?" Arthur asks, his voice a pained whisper. "Mithian's shot..." He pales, his eyes haunted.

"It was so painful. I couldn't think. I did not know where to hide. I was so... _so frightened_... and lost..." she quietly says, her voice giving out as the tears come harder, and she crumples, leaning forward into her hands and sobbing.

"Oh, no..." Arthur hoarsely whispers. He stands and goes to her, sliding her chair back so he can crouch in front of her. "Guinevere," her name is a soft prayer on his lips as he rubs her back, kissing her hair. "Love, come," he whispers, gently easing her from her chair and guiding her over to his, where he settles her onto his lap. He wraps his arms tightly around her, holding her close. "I didn't know you had been injured... you never said... you didn't appear wounded when I saw you in Ealdor..." he says, lightly caressing her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tears.

"I know. That is what I didn't understand. I must have passed out from the pain. Then, when I woke, there was no arrow in my leg and Merlin was there. I... I didn't question it at the time; I assumed it went away when the enchantment wore off," she explains, returning his caress.

"Merlin healed you," Arthur reasons.

"Yes, I think so, looking back. He must have found me in the night and made sure I was safe," she says, clearly moved by her friend's gesture.

Arthur tenderly touches his wife's forehead with his own. He is visibly shaken by what his beloved has just revealed to him. "That's when I found your ring. After Mithian... shot you, we were looking for you... for the doe we didn't know was you, I mean. When I saw your ring, I felt... My heart felt as though it had been pierced through. I could hear the knights and the princess talking in the background, but it was all noise. Just nonsense to me," Arthur says, his eyes wide with the memory. "The world tilted. I felt... dizzy. Off balance. All I knew – all I _care__d_ about – was that you had been there, on that very spot. I looked up and searched the forest around me, looking for _you_, the doe completely forgotten. Eventually, my eyes landed on Merlin, and I could immediately see he was as concerned as I was. He was looking for you, as well." He holds Guinevere tightly, almost too much so, as he remembers his despair over not finding her, not knowing where she was. He kisses her temple and buries his face in her hair, nuzzling her neck, needing the reassurance of her presence. "I declared the hunt over and we made for the castle. I couldn't continue, knowing you were in the woods somewhere, alone and unprotected. All I could think about was you. Were you safe? Were you frightened? Were you _hurt_?" he says, his voice soft and full of anguish, his breath warm on her neck. His tears are flowing freely now, wetting his cheeks and her shoulder as he keeps his face pressed against her neck. "Thankfully, Merlin found and looked after you. I shall thank God every day until my dying breath for that."

"Yes, thanks to Merlin, I didn't die," Guinevere says, once again wiping away Arthur's tears just as he is reaching to do the same for her. "Living wasn't exactly easy during that time, but I had to survive in order to somehow warn you about Morgana's plans."

Arthur lifts his head from her shoulder and takes Guinevere's hand. He kisses it, then holds it against his cheek for a moment.

"When I woke and Merlin was there, I told him everything I had heard. He... he tried to convince me to come back and tell you myself, but... I couldn't. I told him I had what I deserved." Arthur's breath catches as she finishes, her voice a whisper.

"No, Love, no," Arthur firmly states.

"It is what I believed at the time," Guinevere answers, shuddering in his arms and tucking her face into his neck. As the wetness from her tears fall on his skin, he tightens his grip on her. They remain this way, drawing solace and strength from each other, for a few moments. Finally, Guinevere takes a deep breath, but says nothing, so Arthur speaks.

"Merlin did warn me. He tried. Agravaine must have been aware of Merlin's suspicions and already had the plans returned," Arthur quietly says. "Still, he was so insistent..."

Guinevere moves her head slightly, resting it on his shoulder. "I understand your reasoning, Arthur. Agravaine was family, after all."

"My mother's brother. I still cannot believe..." he shakes his head as though he is trying to clear away the hurt. "Merlin was really your champion, Guinevere. He kept reminding me that I still loved you."

"He did?" Guinevere asks, surprised.

"Whenever he could. I forbade him to speak your name, but he still managed to remind me. He really has given excellent counsel more often than I would be willing to admit," he sighs. He turns and softly kisses her forehead, closing his eyes as his lips press her soft, smooth skin. "Did Merlin suggest you go to Ealdor and his mother's house?"

She nods. "She's really a wonderful woman. Very kind. I see a lot of her in Merlin."

"It was good of her to take you in," Arthur says with a sigh, not needing to add that Hunith shouldn't have _had_ to take Guinevere in.

"She seemed to know how I was feeling," Guinevere says, lifting her head from Arthur's shoulder. "I guess she would know how it feels to lose a love."

"Merlin's father. The dragonlord," Arthur comments, briefly wondering about their story. _Is Hunith aware that Merlin knows about his father?_ He looks at Guinevere and is fairly sure she is wondering the same thing.

"Maybe one day Merlin will ask her about him," she says, confirming his suspicions. "Hunith kept me busy," she continues, back on track. "Welcomed my help. Showed me sympathy and kindness, but never coddled."

Arthur is quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry for how I behaved towards you. It was... unfair of me."

"Thank you. I know you were confused and overwrought, but... thank you," she answers, kissing his cheek.

"Confused and overwrought is nothing compared to how you must have been feeling," he says, leaning his head against hers.

"Well, I have always wondered..." Guinevere begins, then stops, biting her lower lip.

"What? Wondered what, Love?" Arthur gently prods.

Guinevere lowers her gaze and looks at her husband's shoulder as she whispers, "Is it true? Everything we had between us before then. Is it truly gone?"

"What? No!" Arthur cries out, looking down at her, his eyes desperate. "Most certainly not! Guinevere, I was so lost and hurt, I didn't know what I was saying. Please understand—"

"It's just that we never talked about it, Arthur," Guinevere gently explains. "We never talked about so many things…"

"Well, we are talking now and will continue to do so until all of this is sorted. I want you to be able to say whatever you wish about_ anything_ and_ everything_ at anytime, just like before. Your willingness to speak up to me was one of the first things about you with which I fell in love," he explains, gently lifting her face and sweetly kissing her lips.

"Thank you, Arthur," she says. "And, thank you for listening. I... I haven't thought about that time in a while. I don't _like_ thinking about it," she admits after a moment. "But, I'm glad you wanted to know what had happened."

"Thank you for telling me. I realize it wasn't easy for you," he says, caressing her cheek with his finger. "I'm sorry. I know I have said it many times, and still, it does not seem enough. I'm so sorry. I love you so much, Guinevere," he says, kissing her.

"And I love you, Arthur," she answers, kissing him once more, then cuddling against him. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly.

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Love?"

"What happened with Mithian? What happened after you returned to the castle?"

Arthur shakes his head. He doesn't want to talk about this, but realizes he should. His Guinevere deserves to have all of her questions answered. He does not want _anything_ to stand between them. Ever.

He takes a deep breath and begins, "After we got back, I retreated to my chambers and refused to see anyone. I had nothing left in me to carry on with... with my plans. All I could think about was you and how much I love you. I kept toying with your ring. I could not bring myself to let go of it, just as I realized I could not let go of you."

Guinevere snuggles closer to Arthur and sighs.

"I knew I owed Mithian an explanation, so I had new terms for the treaty drawn up, all in her favor. I told her I was sorry, but they were all I was able to offer."

Guinevere lifts her head and studies her husband's face. "What did she say?"

"She asked who is it that trumps a princess and asked if this person was worth forfeiting my kingship and kingdom." He falls silent, resting his head atop hers.

"Arthur?" she prompts.

"I told her without you, my kingship and kingdom are worth nothing to me."

Guinevere gasps, stunned by the depth of love Arthur had for her even when it appeared there was no future for them.

"Mithian said she would give up her own kingdom for such a love," Arthur finishes.

Overwhelmed, Guinevere tucks her face into her beloved's neck, breathes in his scent, feels his strong arms around her, and gathers strength and comfort from his solid presence. Neither of them says anything more until another knock sounds at the door.

"Merlin?" Arthur calls. Guinevere wipes her eyes, but makes no move to leave his lap.

"Yes," Merlin's muffled voice sounds through the door.

"Come," he calls.

Merlin steps in, pauses briefly at the sight of the queen cradled on the king's lap, but recovers quickly and walks over to them. "Everything all right?"

"Guinevere has just told me about what happened to her during her banishment," Arthur says.

"Oh," Merlin says, surprised. He doesn't move, considering this. _I'm gla__d__ she told him. I'm sure it wasn't pleasant, but they shouldn't hide from it anymore._ He finally starts clearing their lunch and notices how little has been consumed. "Are you done with your meal?" he asks.

"Yes. We did more talking than eating," Guinevere answers, lifting her head from Arthur's shoulder. "Merlin, I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Did you heal me in the forest? I was shot with an arrow, and when I woke up, it was gone and there was no wound."

Merlin stops. "So, you knew you were a deer?"

Guinevere nods. "I thought perhaps the arrow went away when I returned to myself. But, it was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was. I found you unconscious and shaking uncontrollably. I removed the arrow, healed your injury, and kept watch over you until you woke," he casually says, as if it were an everyday thing.

"Merlin," she says, reaching her hand out to his, "thank you. What you did means so much. To both of us."

"You would do the same for me," Merlin simply says. He smiles. "Even so, it's like I told Arthur: this is what I do. Arthur is meant to be king. You're meant to be queen. Gaius is meant to be a physician. I'm meant to protect Arthur, and, by extension, you."

"Well, I would like you to know we appreciate it. And, now that we're learning more about what you've done," she pauses, shaking her head in amazement, "mere words of thanks are inadequate. But, thank you so very much all the same," Guinevere says. Arthur nods, letting his wife speak, knowing she is much better equipped to say the right words in this situation.

"It is my honor," Merlin says, smiling.

"You... you stopped my bolt from hitting Guinevere, didn't you?" Arthur softly asks.

"Of course I did," Merlin answers. "Couldn't have you killing your future queen now, could I?"

"Thank you," Arthur softly answers.

"You're very welcome," Merlin says. A moment later, he frowns, something clearly on his mind.

Arthur notices and remembers his servant's message. "So, what was this important business you were on about?"

Merlin covers the tray holding their lunch dishes and clasps his hands behind his back. "Two things, actually. Still trying to find the bracelet. I've got the head guard questioning all his men. Unfortunately, we lost quite a few guards when Morgana and Helios attacked, so we may never know what became of it. Plus, it's been over three years. I'd really like to examine it to find out if it is still enchanted. It would be awful if it was out there breaking up marriages or something." He frowns.

"Good point," Arthur says. "And, the other?"

Merlin squares his shoulders. "I would like to request a formal audience with the king and queen. At their earliest conveniences. A _private_ formal audience."

Arthur blinks, surprised.

"Why the formalities, Merlin? Surely you know you can simply talk to us," Guinevere says, and Arthur nods in agreement.

"Well, this is something of a slightly different nature. There is something that needs to be addressed officially. It involves more than just me."

"Who else?" Arthur asks.

"I truly believe it best, Sire, to wait until the formal audience. When will the king and queen be available?" Merlin inquires.

"Merlin, you know our schedules better than we do," Arthur points out. He realizes Merlin's not going to say anything more about what he needs to discuss with them, so he doesn't press.

"After dinner," Merlin says. "In the throne room. Leon may be present if he wishes, but no council. No guards. No servants. My lord," he adds, just for good measure.

Arthur nods. "All right. After dinner then."

"Thank you, Sire. My lady," Merlin nods, takes the tray, and sweeps from the room.

xXx

Arthur and Guinevere are seated on their respective thrones, waiting and wondering what it is Merlin has in store for them.

"Do you think it's something about Gaius?" Arthur asks, looking over at his wife. "I know he studied magic in his younger days, but..."

"Be patient, Love, Merlin will be here soon," Guinevere says, patting his hand. He turns it and takes hers, twining their fingers together between them.

A moment later, the doors open and Leon steps in. "Merlin and Sir Mordred request a private audience with the king and queen," he declares, his clear voice ringing through the large, empty room.

"Mordred?" Arthur mutters. "Bid them enter, Sir Leon, and secure the doors behind them."

"Yes, my lord," Leon answers. A moment later, Merlin and Mordred enter, their faces serious. They both respectfully bow as Leon closes and bolts the door. He takes his place off to the side, watching and listening with interest.

"Merlin," Arthur speaks first, "what is the purpose for this audience?"

"Sire, my lady, Sir Mordred has something he wishes to tell you," Merlin says.

"Very well," Arthur nods, assuming, given recent events, that this is about the bracelet or Morgana.

Mordred clears his throat nervously and looks over at Merlin. Merlin gives him an encouraging nod. "My lord," he begins, "Do you remember the first time we met? The _very_ first time?"

"Yes, of course," Arthur says. "You were very young. And ill. Morgana was hiding you from Father because you were a Druid and..." he trails off, realization hitting him square in the forehead. "You're a Druid."

"Yes, Sire," Mordred says.

"Druids have magic," Arthur states, staring at the young knight but seeing the quiet, intense little boy he helped save nearly ten years ago.

"Yes, Sire," Mordred repeats.

"My lord, Mordred has not used his magic in some time. Not intentionally, anyway," Merlin says, trying to explain. "He wanted—"

"I wanted to tell you because of what has happened. Because you know about Merlin, I mean, and… because you allowed him to help Queen Guinevere," Mordred speaks up, growing braver. "Merlin suggested that it would be best for me to speak up as soon as possible."

"No more secrets," Merlin adds.

Arthur thoughtfully nods. "Did you know about Merlin's magic before yesterday, Mordred?"

"Yes, Sire, I did. And he knew about mine. We have known since the moment we met, all those years ago. I am very sorry," Mordred regretfully answers.

"You do not need to apologize for keeping Merlin's secret, Mordred," Guinevere addresses the youthful knight. "You were protecting each other. It is completely understandable, given the situation."

"Thank you, my lady," Mordred offers a small smile, appreciating the queen's graciousness.

Arthur's face is inscrutable as he ponders this information. "Why are you telling us this?" he asks. "I understand your desire to be honest with me, and I thank you for it, but... why do I have the feeling the two of you have something... _more_ in mind?"

"You're not angry, my lord?" Mordred asks.

"If anything, I'm angry with myself... yet again... for not seeing what was right before my eyes. How I failed to remember you are a Druid is beyond me," Arthur shakes his head.

"I was a little surprised by that, myself," Mordred blurts. "My lord. Apologies," he hastily adds.

"No, no, it's fine. I realize this is a formal audience, but please, speak freely," Arthur says. He glances over at Leon for a moment and sees the knight studying Mordred like he's never seen him before. "Sir Leon, I trust you will keep this information in the matter in which it has been presented."

"Yes, Sire. It will be Sir Mordred's decision to tell the others," Leon nods. "Well, 'the others' being Percival and Gwaine, if we are keeping this information as tightly held as we are Merlin's."

"I think it would be best," Arthur says.

"I must say, however, that while I am completely shocked, the prospect of having a knight with magic certainly has… possibilities. Strategically speaking, of course," Leon adds.

"Which is actually our point, Arthur," Merlin says, lapsing into his normal, informal demeanor. "Mordred is a knight. He has magic. He's been allowed to train as a knight, and now wishes to train in the use of his magic as well."

"With you?" Arthur raises his eyebrows.

"You have a better option?" Merlin counters. "Certainly not—"

"Mordred," Guinevere says, "Morgana knows about your magic, doesn't she?" It's not really a question.

"Yes, my lady," Mordred softly answers, looking down. "She… she attempted to seduce me to her side in the forest yesterday." He looks up, his face earnest. "I refused immediately, of course. I do not agree with the path on which she has placed herself."

"I am glad you refused, but it is not good that she knows," Arthur says, scowling. "We must protect you from her, especially if she wants you."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Merlin says.

"Sire, my magic is weak. It has… what is the word you used, Merlin?"

"Atrophied. Grown weak with disuse."

"It has atrophied, but it… tends to come out when my emotions run high. I know if I am allowed to work on it, allowed to study and train, I could become strong again. I could learn to control it."

"Again?" Guinevere asks.

Mordred looks at Merlin, silently asking for help in explaining his complex history to their sovereigns.

Merlin tactfully steps in. "When Mordred was a boy, he was exceptionally powerful. It was too much for one so young, and he was…"

"I became frightened of myself," Mordred says. "I was scared I would hurt the wrong person, someone for whom I cared, perhaps…" he drifts a moment, then regroups. "So, I stopped using it."

The king and queen thoughtfully consider the words of their friend and the Druid knight. "Are you able to help him, Merlin?" Arthur asks. "Are you prepared to take on this responsibility?"

"Yes, Sire," Merlin answers. "I would very much like to work with Mordred." _Maybe I can help him where I was unable to help Morgana._ "I think it would be beneficial for all of us to be prepared for a time when magic will be allowed in Camelot once again."

Merlin's bold word choice does not go unnoticed by the king. _He said "when", not "if"._ "You believe this time will come," Arthur states.

"I do," Merlin answers. "Once Morgana is no longer a threat. Only then."

"He's right, Sire," Leon volunteers. "We cannot allow magic in Camelot while the Lady Morgana yet lives. She would take full advantage, and it could be catastrophic."

"Of course," Arthur agrees. He nods slowly, staring into space, strategic wheels turning in his tactical brain. At length, he looks at Guinevere, who nods, but says nothing. "Very well. I will allow this, but I have several conditions."

"Naturally," Merlin nods.

"First, as you must know, discretion is of utmost importance. Stay in Gaius' quarters or, if you need more room, somewhere deep and secluded in the forest. Second, Mordred must continue with his knights' training as though nothing has changed."

"Of course, Sire," Mordred agrees.

"Third, Merlin, Mordred is _your_ responsibility. If anything bad happens because of this, and I do mean _anything_…"

"Yes, Sire," Merlin says, understanding. "You have my word."

xXx

"Why have you summoned me, young warlock?" the Great Dragon wearily says as he touches down onto the grass. "I am aged and weary, and you have little need of my guidance anymore."

"I have a question for you," Merlin says, looking up at his old friend. _ Old. _ _He_ does _look older and less full of life every time I see him._

"You always have questions for me, Merlin, and most of the time you ignore my counsel," Kilgarrah sighs.

Chastised, Merlin says nothing for a moment, but presses on. "I want to know about the prophesy. The one that says Mordred will kill Arthur."

"You already know all that it says," Kilgarrah answers.

"Is it still true? Will it yet come to pass?" Merlin asks.

Kilgarrah angles his large head at him. "Recent events have changed the path," he says. "If young Mordred stays on this course, he will not betray you."

Merlin breathes a heavy sigh of relief.

"Do not take my words lightly, Merlin," the dragon warns. "The Druid boy must stay on the path of light."

"I have taken him on as my pupil," Merlin says. "I will help him... I won't fail him like I did Morgana."

"Morgana's choices are not your burden to bear," Kilgarrah says. "Carry them with you no longer, as they are nothing but useless weight on your heart."

Merlin lowers his gaze. "I'll try, but it's difficult. I keep wondering 'what if?'..."

"Merlin," Kilgarrah levels his head, looking squarely at Merlin, and the warlock looks up and sees that the dragon's large eyes are slightly clouded, but still wise. "Some paths are like rivers, flowing, changeable, movable. Mordred's path is one of these. Other paths are paved with stone, only changeable through immense effort. Such is Morgana's path."

Merlin looks away, remembering the times the dragon had warned him. The times he told him in no uncertain terms to let Morgana die. _He's right. I didn't listen, and I should have._ "I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm sorry I didn't listen."

Kilgarrah bows his head, acknowledging the apology. "Listen to me now, young warlock. You must be Mordred's guide for such a time as this. Be firm with him, but, above all else, you must show him kindness. Do not let the apparent calm of his still demeanor fool you. The boy is fragile, still very much ruled by his emotions."

"I know," Merlin says, nodding, remembering his conversation with Mordred that morning. "He told me he has difficulty controlling his magic when his feelings are strong."

"Yes. So take care, as his feelings may be his downfall."

Merlin furrows his brow. "How so?"

"Mordred will be tested. His loyalty will have to stand one more test in order for the prophecy of Arthur's death to change for good," the dragon explains. "I cannot say _ho__w_ he will be tested, as it is unclear. If he does not pass this test, his path _will_ align with Morgana's."

"And if he passes?" Merlin asks.

"The prophecy will be no more."


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm so glad Gaius allowed me to take this stroll," Guinevere says, holding Arthur's arm as they walk through the marketplace. She had to plead with the physician, telling him she could not bear staying indoors when it was so beautiful outside. He had relented, on the condition she not stay out too long.

"Yes, I remember how you enjoyed your walks through the market," Arthur says.

"The people have missed seeing you, my lady," Merlin points out, walking beside Percival behind the royal couple. Many people wave, bow, or otherwise greet their king and queen, and one little girl has given Guinevere a small bunch of wildflowers.

"I've missed seeing them," she says. "I assume I did not take my customary outings while I was..." she adds, her voice trailing off.

"No, my lady," Percival says. "You informed me you wouldn't be visiting the people as often." Percival had regularly accompanied Guinevere on her walks, because his size was a deterrent to anyone who might have been thinking of harming the queen as well as making him easily visible if anything _did_ happen. Plus, he volunteered for the duty.

Guinevere looks back at Percival and frowns. "I'm sorry, Percival." She pauses thoughtfully. "That doesn't sound like me, does it?"

He shrugs. "It was not my place to question your actions, my lady."

"Please do so in the future," she says, smiling at him. He nods, shyly smiling back. When she turns around she notices Gelda Seward making her way down the road, struggling with a large basket. "Why is Mrs. Seward carrying that all by herself?" she asks. "Where is Tyr?"

_Oh, no._ All three men have the same thought.

"Um, Guinevere... Tyr died. It happened while you were enchanted," Arthur says. "He... it..." They stop walking.

"It's complicated," Merlin volunteers, stepping forward.

"Percival, would you please help Mrs. Seward?" Guinevere asks, touching the large knight's arm. "With anything she needs. Please," she says, immediately troubled.

"Of course, my lady," Percival answers and jogs over to the older woman, slowing when he is a few feet away so as not to alarm her. He politely and respectfully offers his services. She initially declines, but Percival gently convinces her, his open and earnest manner difficult to refuse.

"Right man for the job," Arthur observes.

"I'd like to go home, please," Guinevere says, her voice noticeably weaker.

"Are you all right, my love?" Arthur asks.

"I don't know," she answers. _I have a bad feeling that I cannot shake._

Merlin exchanges a concerned look with Arthur. They turn around and head back to the castle.

xXx

Back in the royal chambers, Guinevere sits by the window, reading a volume about herbs. The sounds of swords clanging in the distance float up to her ears as the knights train. Occasionally, she can hear Arthur's steady commands or shouts from the men. Ella sits nearby, mending one of Arthur's shirts, keeping her mistress company.

"I don't know why I am attempting to read," Guinevere sighs. "I have been staring at this same page for God only knows how long."

"It is understandable, my lady," Ella says, pulling her needle through the fabric. "You've been through an ordeal. It's going to take a while – whoops!"

Her spool of thread has toppled from her lap and rolls across the floor, stopping when it bumps against Guinevere's foot. She bends down, picks it up, and stares at the wooden spool, at the red thread wound around it, one long end dangling.

Red thread.

"My lady?" Ella asks, her voice sounding strange and distant.

Suddenly, images are flying across Guinevere's vision faster than she can comprehend. She gasps and squeezes her eyes shut. The whirling images slow down to a crawl and she sees...

_Arthur's saddle. The re-stitched girth. __ My hands, pulling the thread through the leather. Holding my breath as Arthur tumbles from his saddle. The weight of a dagger in my palm, hidden in my skirts as I spoke with Tyr. The fear and surprise in his eyes as I…_

_ It was me. I did it._

_ It was me._

Guinevere begins to moan, a sad, mournful cry originating from somewhere deep inside of her, somewhere she cannot reach with her mind. "No..." she rasps, standing on shaky legs and staring at the spool now clutched in her trembling hand. She takes a deep, shuddering breath and tears begin to spill from her eyes as she takes an unsteady step forward.

"My lady?" Ella prompts again, more urgently, as she stands and goes to the queen.

Guinevere remains frozen in place, swaying slightly. She's staring into space, her eyes wide and terrified.

"What is it, my lady? Pray allow me to help you!" Ella, truly frightened at seeing her mistress in such a state, reaches out to assist the queen.

Guinevere shakes her head. "Arthur... I need him..." she whispers, slightly trembling.

"Yes, my lady!" the handmaiden stammers and dashes out the door past the startled guards.

Ella runs as fast as she can, ignoring the pains in her shins as her thin shoes pound on the stones, ignoring the strange looks from the other servants as she makes her way to the training grounds. She doesn't know how she's going to get the king's attention or what she'll say. All she knows is her mistress needs him. Now.

She reaches the training grounds, gasping for air, and is met by Merlin.

"Ella? What's wrong?" he asks.

Her eyes lock on Arthur and she runs into the training field without thinking. Several knights shout in protest at the interruption, but she pays them no mind.

"My lord!" Ella yells, and Arthur immediately stops and looks at the maid, surprised. "The queen..." she gasps.

Arthur immediately drops his sword and bolts, catching up to and passing the already-running Merlin.

The knights are dumbstruck, each man staring in shock as their king sprints to the castle, troubled about what could be the matter with their queen. Leon is the first to recover, bending to retrieve Arthur's dropped sword. He clears his throat loudly. "I am sure King Arthur will call for assistance should he need any," he says, his voice quiet but carrying easily to all the men's ears. Then, he shakes his head slightly and taps the nearest knight's sword with his. "All right lads, don't stand there gaping," Leon announces. "I believe we were practicing defensive maneuvers..."

"Ella, you might want to move," Gwaine gently recommends, putting his arm around the girl's shoulders. He had been sparring with Leon when she arrived, and since he's now without a partner, he guides the frightened maid off of the training field. Gwaine catches Leon's eyes and the senior knight nods his consent. "Come, let's go see if the queen is all right."

"Thank you, sir," Ella answers, tears falling now as fear replaces the urgency she was feeling.

When Arthur reaches the royal chambers, Guinevere is in a heap on the floor, sobbing into her hands, still clutching the spool of thread.

Arthur rushes to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him, surrounding her with himself. "Guinevere, shh..." he hushes her. He doesn't know what's wrong, but he needs her to calm down. "It's all right, Love, I'm here," he whispers, stroking her hair. He glances up, giving Merlin a concerned look. Merlin is just as worried, but he's been worried about Guinevere since they saw Mrs. Seward in the marketplace earlier that morning.

"It was me," Guinevere whispers. "It was me."

"What was you?" Arthur asks, pulling away just enough to look at her. He gently wipes the tears from her cheeks, but they are steadily coursing down.

"I did it, Arthur. It was me..." she hoarsely says, falling to sobbing again, collapsing against him.

Merlin sees the spool clutched in her hand and realization hits him like a boulder. He grabs a nearby chair and sinks onto it. _This is what I feared. I had suspected, but truly hoped I was wrong._ "Arthur," he softly says, "in her hand."

Arthur takes Guinevere's hand and gently pries the spool out of her grasp. "Thread?" he asks, confused.

There is a soft knock at the door, left ajar in their haste. "Excuse me, Sire," Gwaine softly calls. "Is the queen all right?" His arm is still around Ella's shoulders. The girl is wide-eyed and pale, clearly very frightened.

"She will be fine," Merlin answers with more confidence than he feels.

Gwaine notices the disparity between Merlin's words and face, but says nothing, knowing his friend is protecting both the queen and her maid. "Let's see if we can find you a bite to eat," he says, nodding at Merlin as he escorts Ella away, taking care to close the door behind them. _I don't know what's going on, but I have a feeling neither of us is needed at present._

"Arthur," Guinevere whispers, her face still hidden in his shoulder, "it was _me._ I was the one who tampered with your saddle. _I_ was the one who threatened poor Tyr with his mother's life. _I_ was the one who... who ki..." Her voice fails again, unable to continue.

"No, Guinevere, no, no..." Arthur says, gathering her to him again, holding her closer. "You were doing Morgana's bidding. It wasn't you. You weren't in control of your actions, Love."

"It was _my_ hand," she sobs, lifting her head. "_My_ hand holding the knife. I saw it! I killed an innocent man deliberately and ruthlessly!" She collapses against him again.

"Merlin, get Gaius," Arthur looks up and says. Merlin nods once and exits immediately.

Guinevere is inconsolable, heaving great, silent sobs that shake Arthur to his core. All he can do is hold her and remind her she is not to blame, that she was under an enchantment. "Remember, Love, Morgana was controlling you," he says, but his own voice is shaky now as he struggles not to give in to the overwhelming sense of helplessness looming over him. Arthur swallows hard, striving to ride out Guinevere's remorse and grief with her. _She needs you to stay strong for her, to mainta__in control._ He reaches within, to his deep love for his wife, and rallies. "It may as well have been her holding the knife."

She continues crying against his shoulder, saying nothing. Arthur moves, shifting their positions on the floor so he can stand, lifting her in his arms. He carries her to the bed and gently places her on it. She clings to his shoulders, not willing to let him go.

"Guinevere, I'm not going anywhere," he whispers, and she loosens her grasp so he can sit beside her on the bed. He sets the spool of thread on the bedside table, then leans back against the pillows, holding her to his chest.

"I cannot believe..." she manages, wiping her eyes again. Arthur's shirt is becoming soaked through with her tears, and she rubs her hand over it. "Sorry..." she whispers.

"It's fine, Love. Just a shirt," he says. Her sobs have diminished, and occasionally her breath hitches, but she's starting to calm down.

There's a soft knock at the door and it opens a crack. Merlin's head pokes in, then he slowly enters, followed by Gaius.

"How is she?" Gaius asks, walking to the bedside, where Merlin is setting a chair for him.

"Shocked. Upset," Arthur says.

"Devastated," Guinevere whispers. "I can't... how can I live with myself knowing I...?"

"Gwen, it was Morgana, not you," Merlin says, echoing Arthur's sentiments.

"Yes, my lady, you must remember that," Gaius says. "When memories like this surface, you must remind yourself that you were not acting under your own control."

"That's what I've been telling her," Arthur softly says. He smoothes her hair away from her face, where a few tendrils have gotten loose and stuck to her damp cheeks.

"How could I... how could _she_...?" Guinevere gasps. "There's... there's nothing I can do to right this wrong... nothing I can say..."

"I know, Love, I know," Arthur says. "We all believe you would _never_ harm anyone, let alone kill them. Well, only in self defense," he adds, remembering the times she has taken up a sword.

"Everyone is certain of that," Merlin agrees, perching at the foot of the bed. "Everyone knows there is no one kinder than Queen Guinevere."

"You are both very sweet, but... Mrs. Seward... she was friends with my mother," Guinevere says, sniffling. Merlin hands her a handkerchief. "Thank you," she absently says, sitting up a little. "I've known her, known her family, my whole life. How can I face her? _I killed her son!_"

"You don't have to face her, Gwen," Merlin says, but as soon as the words are out, he realizes she does. He knows his friend the queen, and he understands that she needs to go and see Mrs. Seward to try to atone for what she has done.

"No, I do," Guinevere says, picking at the edges of the handkerchief. "I... I have to speak with her. Confess what I've done... I must seek forgiveness from her." She dabs her eyes and returns to Arthur's embrace.

"What do you remember, my lady?" Gaius gently asks.

"Gaius, I am not sure if..." Arthur starts.

"No... I need to," Guinevere answers. She repositions herself so she is still in Arthur's arms, but more upright.

"Talking about it might help," Gaius recommends, and Arthur nods.

Guinevere takes a deep breath. "I remember sneaking out of the castle and slipping into the stables to tamper with your saddle and... Tyr was there, sleeping."

"One of the horses was ill," Merlin adds. "He does that. Did that, I mean. He would stay if a horse was ailing, to care for it throughout the night."

Guinevere nods, remembering the sweet, caring stablehand who would only hurt a fly if it was bothering a horse. "He saw me... I had to..." she pinches her eyes shut, trying to remember, "ensure his silence by threatening his mother." Her breath hitches as guilty sobs start again.

Gaius reaches into his robes and withdraws a vial. He offers it to Guinevere. "Here, drink this, my lady."

"It's not a sleeping draught, is it?" she asks, not wishing to go to sleep right now.

"Merely a nerve tonic," Gaius explains. "It will calm you."

She hesitates, uncertain. "No," she refuses, "I… I deserve this anguish… I killed an innocent man and I shouldn't find solace until I have Mrs. Seward's forgiveness," she whispers.

"Guinevere," Arthur softly urges, "please take it. You may not be able to remember everything unless you are calm. Please."

She looks at Arthur, bites her lip, and takes the vial.

"Remember, my lady, it wasn't _really_ you," Merlin softly advises.

Guinevere hesitantly nods, slowly drinks it, then hands it back to Gaius, murmuring her thanks. "Tyr promised me he wouldn't say anything. He... was so frightened... and confused," she continues. "Understandably so." She stops abruptly, looking at Gaius. "At times, Mrs. Seward would look after Elyan and me when we were children. She was always so kind to us…" she adds, faltering. Guinevere takes a deep breath and continues. "Later..." she looks up at Arthur. "I convinced you not to go talk to him," she says, furrowing her brows.

Arthur nods, frowning. "After Merlin reported that Tyr was being framed."

"That is when I began to suspect something was wrong," Merlin says. "I mentioned it to Gaius, and he assured me your strange behavior was a result of your ordeal and Elyan's subsequent death."

"I was wrong," Gaius sighs.

"I wasn't convinced anyway," Merlin says. "Sorry, Gwen. Please, continue."

"After Arthur was asleep, I slipped away... again... to talk to Tyr. I drugged the guards to put them to sleep?" Guinevere asks, unsure. The men nod, and she frowns. "I spoke to Tyr. I... he... he told me he didn't say anything... but I couldn't... I..." she breaks off squeezing her eyes shut again. "I stabbed him. I said something about... him talking, giving me away... and I just... _stabbed_ him. I can still see his face. The fear in his eyes, the... surprise... no, shock..." She breaks down again, weeping into her hands. Arthur pulls her into his arms again. "He was completely innocent and I _killed him without a thought!_" she wails, her voice raspy.

"That's Morgana," Arthur softly says. "Ruthless. Heartless. She had a heart, once..."

Guinevere nods against his shoulder. "She did," she whispers, calming more quickly this time, possibly aided by Gaius' tonic.

"She's turned her back on everything good," Merlin says. "Which is why this enchantment is so difficult for you. She took the kindest person, _you,_ Gwen, and turned you into a soulless assassin. I don't know anyone who has more goodness in them than you, and she robbed you of it. She made you everything you are not."

Guinevere nods. "I'm sorry, Merlin. For placing the blame on you for poisoning Arthur."

"It wasn't you, Gwen. It was Morgana. Please try to remember that," Merlin says. He reaches his hand out to her, and she places her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"How did you find out for certain it was me?" she asks, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief, which has now grown quite damp.

"Your silk cloak. The bluish-gray one. It tore while you were in the forest, probably meeting with Morgana, and Gaius and I found the scrap."

"I was wondering how it got torn," she whispers absently. Then, she looks at her husband. "Arthur, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she says, collapsing against his chest and wrapping her arms around him.

"Guinevere, it's all right. I'm still alive, despite _Morgana's_ best efforts," he says, intentionally emphasizing his half-sister's name to stress that he considers the attempts to be solely Morgana's doing and not Guinevere's. "I'm alive, you're freed from your enchantment, and we can move on with our lives."

"I want to talk to Mrs. Seward," Guinevere says, lifting her head again. "Today."

"Are you sure you want to do this _today?_" Arthur asks, glancing at Gaius, who is frowning.

"Yes. I want to speak with her as soon as possible."

"Why don't you wait until the afternoon?" Gaius suggests.

"Yes, Love, rest now. Gather your thoughts. Then, this afternoon we will visit Mrs. Seward," Arthur says.

"You don't have to come with if you have things you should be doing here," Guinevere says.

"There is nothing here that can't wait," Arthur declares. "I want to go with you."

"I'll come, too," Merlin offers. "If it's all right, I mean."

Guinevere nods. "Thank you," she softly says. She settles back in against Arthur. He bends down and kisses her forehead.

"Get some rest. You don't have to sleep, but please rest," Arthur whispers.

"Can you stay here with me?" she asks.

"Of course," he immediately answers.

xXx

Guinevere takes a deep breath and knocks on Gelda Seward's front door in the early afternoon. Merlin and Arthur are standing behind her, letting her take the lead.

"Just a moment," Mrs. Seward's voice softly sounds from behind the door. A moment later, the door opens. "Oh!" she exclaims, immediately dropping into a curtsey.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Seward," Guinevere softly says. "May we come in?"

"Of course, of course..." she answers, a bit bewildered. She steps aside and welcomes the king and queen into her home. "Forgive me, I wasn't expecting visitors," she fusses, wiping nonexistent dust from a chair and straightening an already-straight candlestick. "Please, sit," she motions toward the chair.

"You know Merlin, of course," Guinevere says, almost as an afterthought since she is so distracted.

"Yes, my lady, everyone knows Merlin," the older woman smiles at the servant. He returns the smile, standing beside Arthur, staying in the background. "May I offer you something to drink?" Mrs. Seward asks, wishing to be a good hostess.

"No, thank you," Guinevere answers, smiling kindly. "Please, will you sit with me?" she asks, taking the offered seat. Arthur and Merlin hover in the background, leaving the only other chair vacant.

"Please," Arthur nods towards the chair, indicating he wishes her to take the seat.

"Thank you, Sire," the older woman answers, sitting.

"That's the last of the wood split and piled, Missus," Percival ducks into the small house, not realizing she has visitors. "Oh, excuse me, my lady, my lord," he says, adding a nod towards Merlin as he stands, slightly stooped, in the small house.

"Quite all right, Percival. We were counting on your presence here during our visit," Arthur says.

The large knight nods, understanding the king's intent. He turns back to Mrs. Seward. "I've filled your water barrels, too, since I saw they were low."

"Thank you, sir," Mrs. Seward says. "Percival," she corrects herself, as Percival has obviously asked her to call him by his given name.

"You're very welcome, Missus." He smiles wistfully. "I enjoyed it. It reminded me of helping around the house when I was a lad."

"Your mother must be very proud of you," Mrs. Seward says.

"Yes, ma'am," Percival simply answers, not having the heart to tell her that his family is gone, slaughtered by Cenred's men years ago. "I'll stand guard outside," he concludes, nodding at Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin before exiting.

"Thank you, Percival," Arthur responds, clapping the knight on his shoulder as he passes.

"He's a dear young man," Mrs. Seward says. "So helpful and kind. He reminds me of…" Her voice fails and she presses her lips together, overcome with memories of her lovable youngest son.

Arthur, Merlin, and Guinevere all exchange a sad look, realizing while the gentle knight stationed outside looks nothing like Tyr, both men have amiable and caring natures.

Mrs. Seward looks at Guinevere again, almost forgetting that the young woman sitting before her is the queen and not the sweet little girl she knew so long ago. "Oh, forgive me, my lady, I..."

"It's fine, Mrs. Seward. Really. And you're right, Percival is an excellent knight and a very good man," Guinevere says. She takes a deep breath. "I am sure you're wondering why we've called on you this afternoon," she begins.

"Yes," Mrs. Seward says. "I will admit I am very curious. It's not every day the king and queen pay a call on a simple old widow like me."

Guinevere sits quietly a moment, ordering her thoughts, trying to maintain her composure. "We have come to apologize. I owe you quite a large apology, I'm afraid, and... I fear there is nothing I can do to make amends for how I have wronged you."

The old woman's brow furrows. "I'm sorry, my lady... I don't understand..."

"Mrs. Seward, I have known you my entire life. You were my mother's friend, and I remember how you looked after my brother and me when she died. I remember the food you sent over even though you really couldn't spare it," Guinevere softly says, tears welling in her eyes. "I remember playing with Hyde... catching frogs... gathering twigs for kindling." She looks straight at Mrs. Seward. "Those memories are what makes this even more difficult to say. Forgive me for not reaching my point, but..." She sighs. "For approximately the past two weeks, I was under an enchantment. The Lady Morgana had control over me. Over every word I said, every move I made. I said and did things I would never have done had I been myself." A tear slips from her eye now. "I... I killed Tyr," she whispers. Mrs. Seward gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. "Under Morgana's enchantment, I killed your son. Your only remaining child. Words cannot express how sorry I am." Tears are flowing down her cheeks and dropping onto her skirt, leaving small, dark spots on the silk.

Gelda Seward says nothing, her eyes wide with shock. Stunned, she looks over at Arthur, her eyes questioning.

He gravely nods. "Guinevere would never tell you the details, but she was abducted, tortured, and finally, enchanted by Morgana." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "We realize knowing this does not return Tyr to you and we are so, so sorry."

Mrs. Seward hangs her head, weeping silently as she processes this information. "Tyr..." she whispers after a minute. "He was such a good boy... never did anything to anyone..."

"I know," Guinevere answers. She reaches out to touch the other woman's hand, but withdraws it, not sure if her gesture of comfort will be welcomed. Mrs. Seward's silence causes Guinevere to hesitate, yet she feels compelled to try to ease this dear woman's pain somehow. "I know..." she softly repeats. "I remember he was a sweet little boy. Gentle, honest. He was so good with the horses. He's missed in the... _I_ miss seeing him." The queen moves forward, falling to her knees in front of the distraught woman. Her voice is quiet and slightly hoarse from crying. "Please, Mrs. Seward... I know there are no words, and... saying that I was under Morgana's control sounds like a feeble excuse..." she trails off, taking another deep, shuddering breath. "But, it is all I have. I cannot apologize enough. There aren't words in any language that... that can convey how deeply, _deeply_ sorry..."

Mrs. Seward's sobs increase, and Guinevere lifts up and wraps her arms around the older woman's shoulders, embracing her as they mourn together.

Guinevere gently releases her after a minute, and Mrs. Seward finally speaks. "Morgana Pendragon has taken everything from me." She presses her handkerchief to her eyes, sniffles, and continues. "First, my Durwin, shot in the courtyard when she tried to take the throne." She looks at Arthur, who nods understandingly, his face sympathetic. "My husband was in the crowd when she ordered arrows shot into the townspeople. She made me a widow with no means to support myself. Hyde helped where he could, but he had a new wife to look after... Tyr was too young..."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Seward," Arthur softly answers. He realizes the truth in Guinevere's earlier words. _It isn't adequate at all._

"When she attacked again at Beltane... that's when I lost Hyde, my oldest. He... he was just trying to protect his home... his wife... she was... expecting, and..." she falls to sobbing, and they know the lonely widow lost more than just a son and daughter-in-law that night.

Guinevere reaches for Mrs. Seward's hand again, this time gently placing it over hers. The older woman turns her hand and grasps Guinevere's, squeezing.

"Morgana Pendragon has taken_ everyone _and_ everythin__g_ from me," Mrs. Seward repeats, her voice shaky, but strong. She looks at Guinevere and sees only a scared girl, Anna and Tom's sweet daughter, not the Queen of Camelot. "I don't hold you responsible, Gwen," she says, forgetting titles and formalities. "If you say you were under an enchantment, I believe you. I know you as well as one of my... own..." Her voice falters on this last word, but she recovers. "You could never..._ woul__d_ never murder anyone. I know this." She pauses, wiping her eyes with her free hand. "It was Morgana... it's _always_ Morgana," she says bitterly. Then, her eyes soften and she looks at Guinevere. "I forgive you, child."

Guinevere exhales, her shoulders slumping in relief. "Thank you, Mrs. Seward. I cannot express how much this means to me. Once I realized... I could not bear the thought of… I… It was just this morning when I discovered... _remembered_… what happened..."

"You've had no memory of it before now?"

"Not really, no," she answers. "The enchantment was lifted the day before yesterday. I've only had… flashes of memories since then, but what I do remember is... horrifying. I want to know what happened... but, I don't..."

"Thank you for telling me, dear. It was... it was hard for me to hear," Mrs. Seward sighs. "I won't lie, it was awful. But, I know it was just as difficult for you to _tell_ me. To come here and face me and tell me what you did, not knowing how I'd react. I thank you for... for _respecting_ me enough to let me know, even though you're the queen and I'm just... I'm just me."

"A good queen respects her people, no matter who they are," Arthur says, his eyes locked on Guinevere.

"As does a good king," Guinevere says, turning to look at her husband, amazed he remembers those words from so long ago. She turns back to Mrs. Seward. "A good queen also tries to make amends for her wrongs. I know there is nothing I can do that will bring Tyr back to you, but if there's anything you need, anything at all, please tell us. Food, wood, candles... assistance. I can send Percival over twice a week, or more if you wish," she says, smiling as she recalls the older woman's growing fondness for the knight. "Of course, you'll be exempted from paying taxes... but if there's _anything,_" she adds. "All you need to do is ask."

"No," Arthur softly speaks up. Guinevere and Mrs. Seward turn to look at him, confused. "She doesn't need to ask. We can do better."

"My lord?" Mrs. Seward asks.

"We will see that your needs are met. Food, water, firewood... whatever you require. We will make sure you have it," Arthur says. "Anything."

"Sire, that is too..."

"No, Arthur's right," Guinevere agrees. "I know it won't fill the holes in your heart, but... let us remove what hardships we can."

"Thank you, my lady. Thank you, my lord," Mrs. Seward says, squeezing Guinevere's hand as tears of gratitude slip from her eyes.

"You are most welcome, Mrs. Seward," Guinevere answers. Behind her, Arthur nods in acknowledgment.

Mrs. Seward looks down for a moment, and when she looks back up at the queen, her face is troubled. "My lady, when is this going to end?" she quietly asks. "When will Morgana stop?" she falls to tears again, and Guinevere wraps her arms around the older woman once more, letting her cry on her shoulder, absorbing her pain and loss. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but... How many more innocent people must lose their lives at her hand?" she hoarsely whispers.

Guinevere looks up at Arthur to see him exchanging a troubled look with Merlin. He turns his gaze on his wife, his face disturbed and thoughtful, his eyes reflecting his deep concern for his people and the weight of responsibility to protect them from this persistent threat to their safety and well-being. _Elyan. My people. My knights. Countless others throughout the years..._

As their eyes lock, a silent understanding passes between them.

Guinevere feels a shift in the air as she watches the expression on her husband's face slowly transform from concerned and sympathetic to steely and resolute as Mrs. Seward's words sink in.


	10. Chapter 10

_ The brick is heavy and rough in my hand, familiar as I lift and set it into place with a satisfying thud. I slather a measure of mortar on the wall and another brick appears in my hand. I set it into place. The wall is high, and I place the bricks just above eye-level._

_ Mortar._

_ Brick._

_ "Arthur..."_

_ Mortar._

_ Brick._

_ "Arthur..."_

_ I pause in my work. Is that Guinevere?_

_ Mortar._

_ Brick._

_ "Arthur, please..." _

_ That _is_ Guinevere._

_ Mortar._

_ "I'm here, Love," I answer, looking around. Surprisingly, I see her approaching on my right. Her voice seemed to be coming from another direction. She is floating gracefully, regally in her burgundy velvet gown and gold braided circlet. The picture of beauty. A true queen._

_ I set the brick in my hand in place and turn to face her, my hands outstretched as I walk to meet her. She curtseys prettily, and I nod deferentially in return, taking her hands. As I lift them to my lips, I hear the scrape of someone adding mortar to the wall, followed by the sound of a brick being set in place._

_ Who is building my wall?_

_ I turn and look. I see myself, dressed in my white tunic and brown trousers, adding bricks to the wall. Confused, I look down to see myself in full dress mail and cape, my sword at my side._

_ "Arthur..."_

_ I turn and look back at Guinevere. She slowly shakes her head._

_ "Arthur..."_

_ The voice is coming from the other side of the wall. I see a boulder nearby and climb up, looking over the barrier._

_ Behind it is my Guinevere, clothed in her simpler lavender dres__s__, the__one she wore before she was queen, looking distraught and slightly disheveled, her cheeks streaked with tears. She calls my name again, wringing her hands, and I am struck with the memory of her in the same dre__ss__, looking similarly distraught, begging my forgiveness over three years ago._

_ It breaks my heart to see her like this. I look around and see no opening in the wall. It extends for miles to the right and miles to the left. Troubled, I leap down from my perch and stride over to my other self. I place my hand on his shoulder and he stops building, turning to face me. A large mallet appears in my hand and I offer it. My other self shakes his head, indicating he won't take it._

_ "Arthur… please…"_

_ Her voice is weaker, and I rush back to the boulder and peer over at her. She looks slightly different, now clothed in the light blue gown she was wearing when I proposed the second time, but her upturned face is still full of anguish. I can see her lips forming the word "please", but I can barely hear her._

_ She is fading from sight._

_ Growing frantic, I turn to face my queen and, to my horror, she is not there. _

_ Where is she?_

_ A sudden chill creeps down my back. I scramble onto the boulder again and look over the wall. Both Guineveres are standing there. Both are distraught. _

_ Queen Guinevere is fading. Guinevere is becoming fainter as well. _

_ I leap off the boulder and run to my other self, myself as a man, not a king, and yell at him to help me. He stands there silently, unmoving as stone. _

_ My heart __drops to my stomach and my knees start to buckl__e__. Desperate, I thrust the mallet into his hand._

_ I feel a weight in my hand and look down. The mallet is in my own hand, and I am now wearing my white tunic and brown trousers._

_ "Arthur…" It is but a whisper._

_ My heart pounding, I rear back to strike the wall, then bring the mallet forward. The wall doesn't break._

_ I regroup and try again._

_ Nothing._

_ I try once more, swinging with all my might. Small chips fall from a few of the bricks._

_ I drop my head, tears streaming from my eyes, breathing heavily, frustrated._

_ I don't hear any sounds from the other side of the wall. In a panic, I drop the mallet and scale the wall, peering over just in time to see Guinevere reach her hand up to me righ__t__ before she completely fades and disappears._

_ "No..." I whisper, dropping my head against the bricks._

_ I cry out, wordlessly and full of anguish, as though my very soul is being ripped from my body. I drop gracelessly to the ground and begin shoving at the wall, running at it with my shoulder, pounding at it with my fists. I punch and push until my knuckles are bloody, screaming her name over and over, knowing in my gut she will come back if I can only break through._

_ "Guinevere! Guinev—"_

"Arthur!"

Arthur blinks awake, thrashing about in the bed. He's completely drenched with sweat and tears and his heart is pounding. "Guinevere," he gasps, pulling her into his embrace, holding her so tightly she squeaks a small protest. He loosens his grasp just a little, clinging to her, kissing her wherever his lips can reach.

"Arthur, what is it?" Guinevere asks, worried and a little frightened. It's the middle of the night, still fully dark outside, but Arthur has startled her into wakefulness. She can feel his racing heartbeat and reaches up to gently wipe his face. She smoothes his damp hair from his forehead. "You were shouting my name. It was a nightmare, wasn't it?"

He nods. Eventually, his breathing and heartbeat return to normal. "I've had it several times. The same one," he quietly starts, relaxing his hold on her a little. "Since... since our wedding. It returns periodically, but... I've had it every night for the last three nights, including this one ."

"Arthur, I'm sorry," Guinevere says. It has been three nights since she had told him about her experiences during her banishment. "Have you been waking up like this and I haven't noticed?" she asks, troubled.

"No," he croaks. "This is the first time the dream has gone this far." He shudders and clings tightly to her once again, the image of his wife disappearing before his eyes returning to his consciousness.

"Do you remember?" she asks. "Will you tell me?"

He nods. "I want to light a candle first. I need to see you better," he says, reluctantly leaving her to light a thin wooden taper from the dying embers in the fireplace.

Guinevere scrambles out of bed after him and moves in the opposite direction, startling Arthur. "Where are you going?" he asks, panic starting to fill his heart.

"I'm getting you a fresh shirt; yours is soaked through," she gently says, holding the garment up for him to see.

"Oh..." Arthur sighs, relieved. He brings the lit taper to the bedside and touches it to a candle on the nightstand. Then, he extinguishes it and carefully sets it down.

He pulls his damp shirt off and sets it aside, then takes the dry shirt from Guinevere and pulls it over his head as he sits on the bed. He studies his wife for a long moment, drinking her in, grasping her hands to assure himself of her presence. "It always starts the same," he says. "I'm building a wall."

He goes on to describe his dream and she listens attentively, carefully, not interrupting with questions or comments, letting him talk it through.

"I couldn't break the wall... I couldn't get to you..." he finishes, fresh tears flowing. "I couldn't get to the... the _simple_ version of you... the you with whom I fell in love... and the version that was queen appeared on the other side, too... and she disappeared... she disappeared first. I couldn't get to you... I couldn't save you... I felt so hopeless, so... _desolate._"

"Do you think this dream is trying to tell you something?" Guinevere asks, caressing his face, thumbing away his tears. She has a definite feeling there is a message in his dream. _Why else would it return again and again?_

Arthur nods. "It must, since it won't leave me alone," he says, echoing her thoughts. "I haven't been able to reason out why there were two versions of us," he muses. "Usually, the dream ends when I see you, the queen you, and walk towards you. Everything after that was new tonight. No, wait..." he furrows his brows, trying to organize his thoughts. "I saw you on the other side of the wall last night, but I don't remember anything past that. But, why couldn't I break the wall? And, why were you initially on my side of the wall as a queen but not as a woma... oh..." he trails off, blinking "Oh, no. No, no, no..."

"Arthur?"

"My God... have I really...?" His eyes widen, his mind reeling as he thinks back over the three years of their marriage, recalling various scenarios and times when he's pushed her aside without realizing it or turned his back on her, telling himself he was protecting her by keeping her in the dark. "I... I have... I haven't..."

"What is it, Arthur?" she asks, concerned.

He looks at her, his face full of horrified clarity. "I have been trusting you with my kingdom, but not with my heart," he simply says. Guinevere feels tears pricking at her eyes now, her hand over her mouth as she slowly nods. "That's what the dream means. _That's_ why the queen you was on one side in the beginning of the dream and the woman you was on the other. _That's_ why I had been building the wall."

Guinevere says nothing, speechless. Her heart is pounding and she feels an unpleasant wobble in her stomach. _ All those months... years of growing distance between us. I already knew this, but I... _Her face crumples and she bites her lower lip, wiping her eyes and waiting for him to continue.

He tentatively reaches for her hand, his long fingers easily surrounding her small ones. "I'm so, so sorry, Guinevere. I thought I had forgiven you... well, I_ ha__d_ forgiven you, but I wasn't letting myself fully trust that you... I mean, Lancelot is dead, but... oh, God!" His voice breaks as he finishes, mortified with himself. "What have I done?" he whispers, withdrawing his hand to place both over his face, devastated.

Guinevere squeezes her eyes shut, trying to withstand the stab to her heart. "So, the only reason you believed we could go forth and marry is because Lancelot was dead? In your mind, it would all be fine because he was no longer an issue?"

Arthur starts to reply, but as the questions his wife poses sink into his heart, he realizes the truth. And, it silences him. Guinevere opens her eyes, looks down at her wedding ring, and whispers to herself, "You and I never had a chance then…" Suddenly, the hurt washes over Guinevere in a wave, and she looks up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Why did you propose again, Arthur? If you couldn't let yourself trust me... why?" she asks, wounded and confused.

"I... I just loved you too much..." he answers, his voice weak and hesitant. "I saw Isolde die and how it broke Tristan, and I knew... in that moment, I _knew_ that... that I couldn't live without you. I was so miserable while you were gone... I could barely function. I needed you. I... couldn't picture an existence without you in it..."

"That doesn't sound like love, Arthur," Guinevere quietly answers. "It sounds like fear."

His eyes widen and he looks away. "I did lo— I mean, I _do_ love you. I always have and I always will," he says, looking back at her. "You must believe me. You took my heart with you when you left," he insists.

"Love was never the issue," Guinevere says, looking down at her hands. "We have always loved each other. Yet, fear replaced it somehow..."

"Guinevere, I..._I _wanted you to stay. _I_ asked you to marry me again. _I _was the one who forbade any talk of what occurred. Everything that has happened or didn't happen from then on is my responsibility. I never should have welcomed you back if I wasn't able to fully give myself to you in every way. It wasn't fair to you. To us."

Tears that were, up until this moment, held back now fall as Guinevere absorbs her husband's words.

"Arthur," she cautiously starts, reluctant to revisit this painful topic. "When I asked you a few days ago if everything we had before was truly gone, you said it wasn't."

Arthur hangs his head. "I thought it wasn't gone. I think I was wrong. But, only because I wouldn't allow it to come back. I didn't even realize I wasn't allowing it." He looks at Guinevere, at the tears in her eyes.

Silence reigns for several seconds as Guinevere ponders Arthur's words. _It is as if we have both been locked in the dungeon. In separate_ _cells. Far apart._

"I was so lonely, Arthur," Guinevere suddenly says, her voice soft but full of anguish. "I... I knew something wasn't right between us, but I could never put my finger on it until tonight."

His brow furrows. "Why did you never say anything?" he asks, but as soon as the words are out, he knows the answer.

"Because you would have either denied it or refused to discuss it, then changed the subject," she answers.

"You're right," Arthur sadly agrees after a pause. "Guinevere, I am so—" his next words are halted by his wife's soft hand touching his lips.

"Arthur, please. Stop. I need you to listen. Please." Arthur nods his head and focuses on her, determined to let her speak no matter how much he fears what she may say.

Guinevere takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes and continues. "I understand why you kept me away from your heart. You were reacting to what you believed to be true, that I betrayed you, and until recently had no evidence to the contrary. However, in the same way I have listened to and understood your reactions, Arthur, please grant me the same courtesy. I need you to listen. I need you to know how this has affected me."

Arthur nods and remains silent.

"In truth, I... I felt more like your wife and queen before we were married. Before the first enchantment. When you would... when you would steal kisses in hidden alcoves... when you would come to me for advice in abandoned corridors... or just to share your ideas, hopes, dreams, and fears... when you could just be yourself because you were with me," she says, closing her eyes, the sweet memories now slightly painful.

"I miss being myself with you." He whispers the admission, wondering what happened to that man, the man who was willing to cast aside his title and his kingdom because of his love for this amazing woman.

"And..." she hesitates, looking down.

"Please," he urges, "tell me."

She looks up at him. "You took me back despite the fact that I betrayed you – remember, I also thought I had done it – and... part of me felt that I should just be grateful to be your queen, even if sometimes I didn't really feel like I was truly your wife. So, I kept quiet about my worries... because I didn't feel I had the right. I didn't want to burden you with them."

"Oh, Guinevere... I thought you were satisfied with how things were..." He kisses her hand again and his heart breaks, stricken by how deeply his wife has been hurting all this time.

Guinevere's breath hitches into a sob and she starts crying in earnest, the floodgates now opened. "You... you said you trusted me with your kingdom... that you valued me as a... queen more than... a wife... but..." She gently pulls her hand from his to wipe her eyes with both, then covers her face with them. "But**,** I'm not... I don't feel like..." She drops her hands, frustrated. "I'm a failure as queen as well!" she finally says, almost shouting now in frustration and grief.

Arthur reflexively wraps his arms around her, and she sobs on his shoulder. "Why do you feel that way? You are a wonderful queen," he says, rubbing circles on her back. "The people love you, the nobles have not only accepted you as queen, but most of them like and respect you..."

"Baby..." she sobs. Hard.

_Baby_. It's a small word, but it tells Arthur everything he needs to know.

Arthur closes his eyes, the familiar pang hitting him. It's the same feeling he gets every time Guinevere tells him her monthly has arrived. Always exactly on time, with the new moon. "Guinevere, it's..."

She lifts her head, pulling away, and sinking into herself. "It's a queen's primary job, Arthur," she says, wiping her eyes again. "Do you think I don't_ hear_ what people whisper behind my back? Do you think I don't_ know_ what the Ladies of the Court are saying behind closed doors? Do you think I don't cry on _each and every_ new moon when I bleed?" As she remembers the pain from the ongoing monthly disappointment and the loneliness of bearing it without comfort from her husband, she involuntarily shifts away from him and curls into herself.

"I don't know what to say," Arthur says, tentatively reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear before dropping his hand. "I'm so sor—"

"Please stop apologizing, Arthur," she interrupts, flinching as if a scab has been pulled off. Again. "I know you're sorry. And, you don't need to say anything. There's nothing you _can_ say." Her voice breaks and she stops, her face crumpling as the tears continue unabated. When she resumes, her voice is hoarse and weak. "It's... it's my problem, but not being able to talk to you about it has been killing me!" Arthur is temporarily stunned as she curls even tighter, shielding herself from new and remembered pain.

He reaches out to her. Guinevere remains very still and tense as he pulls her to him. After a few moments of holding his wife, caressing her face, stroking away her pain, kissing her hair, and whispering sweet endearments, she begins to relax and sink into his arms. Arthur caresses her face and continues to soothe her. Guinevere slowly puts her arms around her husband, barely able to hold on, yet grateful for his support while her pent-up emotions slowly ebb.

"Guinevere, your problems _are_ my problems as well. I had no idea you were so distraught about this," he says, and immediately realizes something. "Oh. I see."

"Yes," she agrees. "This is _our_ marriage, _our_ family, and everyone is talking about this _except_ us. Ella told me that when you and Merlin took me to have my enchantment lifted, there were rumors going around that we were really going to see a witch about getting me with child."

"What?" Arthur asks. "That's preposterous!"

"It doesn't matter whether it's preposterous or not. It's what people think. It's what I hear when people think I'm not listening."

"What doesn't matter is what other people think," he says, scowling.

"Does it matter what I think, Arthur?" she gently inquires.

"Of course, it does, Love," he replies and tenderly touches her cheek.

Guinevere, bolstered by his response, searches for words that have been buried for far too long. "It is easy for you to dismiss what is said because you are not surrounded by it all the time, Arthur. You've had your whole life to learn how to ignore the whispers. I haven't had that luxury," Guinevere points out. "Besides, there's more to it than producing an heir for Camelot." She takes Arthur's hand and places it over her heart. "I _want_ to have your baby, Arthur. _For_ _us_. Because I'm your wife and I love you. I want to bring a little life into this world that's half you and half me and all wonderful."

"I want that, too," Arthur softly admits. "A little boy to train. A little girl to spoil." Images of an energetic little boy with dark curly hair and a wooden sword or a sweet little girl with Guinevere's eyes and a fistful of wildflowers dance through his mind, and his heart aches. He looks at his wife's beautiful, sad face and his heart aches further. "Truly, Guinevere, if you are not able to conceive a child, I would not love you any less. I wouldn't cast you aside or punish you, as some men might. You would still be my wife, my love, my... my world. I know you don't need to hear it again, but I need to say it. I'm sorry. I can't even say how much, because the words don't exist. Like I said before, I want you to be able to talk to me about anything and everything. _Please_. I promise I will listen. I promise my heart and mind will be open."

"I'd like that," she whispers, hopeful. He squeezes her hand. "There were so many times I wanted to talk to you, to let you see my tears... but you were so..."

"Unavailable," he mutters, feeling small. "I... I understand now, Guinevere. Honestly, I do. I've hurt you, and the fact that I didn't even realize I was doing it... just makes it worse. I feel so... ashamed."

Guinevere bows her head. "That's how I feel most of the time. Ashamed. For not being able to produce an heir. For betraying you. It made me feel like... like I didn't deserve your love or your time."

"No, Love, no... It is I who is at fault," Arthur emphatically says. "I've treated you so unfairly, Guinevere. I pushed you aside when I should have listened to you... like... like the time you challenged me about my motives for helping Mithian when Odin attacked Nemeth. You were correct, of course, and I denied it."

"I know," she softly agrees, nodding. "I knew even then that you were not being honest. With either of us."

He sadly nods, feeling guilty. "And the fire... if it weren't for my selfishness, my foolishness... thank goodness Merlin got to you... but you would have cautioned me against using that horn, so I kept it from you..."

"Arthur, what are you talking about?"

"When you were trapped in the kitchens with the fire. I caused that. Indirectly," he explains. He goes on to briefly tell her about the Horn of Cathbhadh and what he'd done.

Guinevere is shocked. She says nothing for a long minute, thinking over what he has just told her, her heart a jumble of emotions. "Thank you for telling me," she whispers. "I can't say it pleases me to hear this, but thank you."

"You almost died because of me. Again," Arthur says.

Guinevere nods because she doesn't know what to say. Her hurt and disappointment are mixing with the sympathy she feels for her husband, and her mind is a jumble. "I was coughing for two weeks after that," she whispers, frowning as the unpleasant memories of that ordeal and her recovery return.

"I know," he answers. "I know. I..." he pauses, struggling with his thoughts, "I have no excuse. I could say I felt vulnerable and alone, but that would just make it worse. I could say I was feeling insecure, but... not much better." He forlornly looks at her. "I was a fool. Plain and simple. I had to learn the hard way what everyone around me already knew about my father. I was a fool to not see his true colors before, and I was an even bigger fool for pushing you aside. And, I hurt you, physically and emotionally, in the process."

"What stings the most is that Merlin knew," she says, wiping her tears again. "You know I love Merlin, but you trusted him over me, and it hurts more than I can say."

"I understand that now, Guinevere," he replies, his voice breaking. "Please tell me you see this is what I'm trying to correct... by taking down the wall I was building in my dream..."

"I do see it, Arthur. It doesn't mean I'm not hurt and frustrated by what happened." Guinevere wipes away her tears again, and Arthur catches her hand, holding it to his cheek. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders, _Will I never stop crying? Will my heart never stop breaking?_

"I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I should have told you immediately after, at the very latest."

"Yes, you should have," she says, frowning. "I don't know if I would have cautioned you against it. I've lost both my parents, too."

"Yes, Love, of course," he softly answers, kissing her hand. He takes a deep breath, inhaling slowly, then exhaling heavily. "Can you forgive me, Guinevere? I was so wrong. I shouldn't have kept anything from you. I... I have asked you to please tell me everything, and yet there I was, sneaking around behind your back like a common thief. Like... an adulterer." He looks away, ashamed. "I was unfaithful to you," he whispers. "Not by lying with other women, but by keeping part of my heart closed off when all of it belongs to you." He returns his gaze to her, looking deep into her soft brown eyes. "I promise you it will not happen again. Ever."

Guinevere says nothing, her face solemn as, once again, she ponders all that her husband has said and the irony of it.

"How do you feel? Can you tell me?" Arthur cautiously inquires.

Silence.

He tries again. "Are you angry?"

Guinevere does not answer right away, removes her hand from his, and continues to wipe away her tears. Arthur uses the sleeve of his tunic to help her.

"Will you please bring me a handkerchief? I need to blow my nose."

"Right. Of course." Arthur scrambles out of bed and runs to Guinevere's vanity. He spies a stack of handkerchiefs on the corner by the mirror and retrieves several, hurrying back to their bed, trying not to fidget as his wife cares for her nose. He watches her and is struck by an idea. Arthur walks over to the pitcher placed on the long table and pours a cup of water, bringing it to her.

Guinevere gratefully accepts the water with murmured thanks, drinks deeply, then hands the cup to Arthur who places it on the nightstand. She wipes her eyes once or twice more, then sighs. After what seems like a very long time, she answers.

"Yes, Arthur. I am angry. Not so much at you, but at… I am not sure at what or who," she finishes helplessly. More silence. Arthur watches her, tears brimming in his eyes as he waits patiently and silently, hanging on her every word. Gathering her thoughts, she continues, "When I think of all the years we waited to be together, all the obstacles we had to overcome, only to be married… and after… the wasted time and opportunities… because of…" She takes a deep breath and Arthur waits again, inadvertently holding his breath. Several seconds of quiet ensue, but Arthur will not break the silence lest he interrupt her chain of thought.

Both Arthur and Guinevere _know,_ without a whisper of doubt, that what happens in the next few moments will determine the course of their lives. Forever.

Guinevere closes her eyes, then opens them to gaze into her husband's. She sees his concern for her and his pain, his regret. She knows those feelings all too well and how desperately hopeless they can make one feel. She shakes her head. "How _can_ I be angry at you, Arthur? You have told me everything and taken responsibility for all of it. You had shown me great mercy and forgiveness when you and I had every reason to believe I betrayed you. How could I _not_ extend the same love and grace to you?"

Arthur searches his wife's face for several seconds, assuring himself what he heard was actually spoken. Then, sighing in relief, he gathers Guinevere in his arms, squeezes her, and leans back to gently touch her forehead with his own. He blinks back tears. "Guinevere… I…" He swallows hard, unable to continue.

"I forgive you, Arthur," she whispers, realizing that no matter how much she is hurt by his actions, facing and owning up to them, realizing how much he has wounded her in the process is much more painful for him. She knows Arthur. She understands his mind and heart, and she knows that this is a breakthrough, not a setback.

"Thank you, Guinevere. My love," he answers, his voice hoarse. He leans forward and kisses her cheek, lingering a moment to rest his forehead against her temple, smelling her hair, breathing her in.

Guinevere wraps her arms around him again, holding him, running her fingers through his hair. "Can you... can you break down the wall you have built?" she carefully asks, hoping he understands what she's _really_ asking.

"Yes," he immediately answers, lifting his head and looking into his wife's eyes. "Yes. If that dream comes back, I will be able to knock that wall down with my little finger." He holds up the aforementioned finger. "But, it won't even take that much. I'll be able to make the wall tumble with little more than a breath."

Guinevere looks at Arthur, at the anguish in her beloved's face. Any hurt she feels at his confession fades when she sees the pain in his eyes. She can see his love – and trust – for her shining through behind the pain, and only wants to help him, to take his hand and guide him back to himself just as he has done for her. _Because that's what you do when you love someone._

"Thank you, Arthur," she whispers, granting him a soft kiss on the lips. She feels his breath catch as her lips make contact with his. "I believe you, Love. I can see that wall coming down even now," she adds, smiling softly as she caresses his cheek.

Arthur sinks against her, relief flooding through him and through Guinevere as well. She catches and holds him, supporting his body with her own. She can feel the wetness of his tears on her neck and shoulder, the soft press of his lips against her skin.

After a few moments, he lifts his head and kisses her. "I want things to be the way they were." He pauses. "No. I want things to be better. This is completely my doing, Guinevere, and I intend to correct it. As rulers, we are powerful, an effective team, a force with which to be reckoned. We should be the same as husband and wife. Even more so. United. Balancing one another. Your strengths should balance my weaknesses as my wife as well as my queen, just as my strengths should balance your weaknesses as your husband, not just as king."

"Yes, Arthur. I want that, too," she agrees.

"I realize what the dream means, about what it was warning me. I was protecting myself, protecting my heart. In doing so, I have utterly neglected yours. I was wrong. So wrong." He kisses her hand. "My dear and only Guinevere, I pledge that not only do I freely and fully give to you my heart, I pledge that if you will entrust it to me, I will continually seek, listen to, look after, and protect your heart to the end of my days." He pauses, searching the lovely brown depths of his beautiful wife's eyes. "Do you trust me, Guinevere? In spite of all the hurt I have caused?"

Guinevere smiles as happy tears threaten to spill, kisses her husband, and whispers, "I do."

xXx

"Tell me more about this horn, please," Guinevere says at length. She and Arthur have tucked themselves back into bed, the candle has burned down to nothing, and they're just lying together, holding one another.

"Do you want to know the long version?" he asks. "What I told you before was just the... the summary."

"Yes, I think so," she answers.

He tells her, giving every detail he remembers. Guinevere relates her experience back to him, even though she had told him when she woke up after Gaius had treated her. Arthur wanted to hear it all again, now that his heart and mind are fully open to his wife. Now that he can truly listen and take in what she has to say and what she has experienced.

"I do understand why you wanted to see him again," Guinevere says once he has finished. "But… I likely would have advised you to take some time and _really_ think about your motives. To make certain you were summoning him for the right reasons."

"Yes, of course," Arthur says, suddenly realizing how much he's lost over the past three years by staying behind this wall he had constructed around his heart. _Like my father did. He kept everyone at arms' length and look where it got him._ "I don't know that I was doing it for the right reasons. I was… searching for his approval again, and he only said those horrible, hateful things about my rule and about you."

"To be honest, I am not terribly surprised at what he said about me. Rather ungrateful of him, though, considering I nursed him for over a year despite all he had done to me and my family." Her words are bold and uncharacteristic, but they needed saying, and now she's not afraid to say them.

Arthur nods, caressing her shoulder. "He was… he was so wrong. So stubborn, so blind. I truly see that now. I was finally able to see the tyrant I wouldn't allow myself to recognize while he was alive." He reaches up and caresses her cheek. "When I sent him back… I told him… I told him it wasn't his kingdom any more. I told him it was my turn now."

"I'm glad," Guinevere says, pleased to know that Arthur had finally stood up to Uther, even if it was his ghost. She is glad to see her husband free to be himself, free to confidently listen to his heart and trust his instincts. He takes her hand in his and holds it on his chest, over that same, wonderful heart. She smiles, sighs, then quietly asks, "Where is the horn now?"

"Somewhere in the vaults. I had Merlin hide it down there and made him promise not to tell me where he put it," Arthur says, sitting back. "So I wouldn't be tempted."

Guinevere nods. "Good. Merlin should be allowed back down there. Eventually."

"Hmm?"

"I'm sure there are magical items down there. Things of which he may have use one day."

"Yes... yes, I suppose so," Arthur acknowledges. "I don't want to talk about Merlin right now," he adds.

Guinevere smiles and leans up to kiss his neck. He squeezes her in return, his hand sliding down from her shoulder to rest on her hip. "Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Now that I've had some time to think, it's probably a good thing we haven't had a child yet. I mean, considering how we were... or weren't..."

"Yes, I agree," he says. "It would have complicated our problems, and the child likely would have been caught in the middle." He bends his head and kisses his beloved's forehead. "Perhaps fate is kinder than we realize."

Guinevere cuddles closer, hooking her leg over his. "Perhaps, my love."

xXx

"Arthur... Arthur!" Merlin gingerly pokes Arthur's shoulder, trying to wake him without disturbing Guinevere. When he entered the royal chambers, he was surprised to discover the queen hadn't yet risen. Typically, she's awake and out of bed before Merlin arrives, seated at her vanity or gazing out the window, usually with her dressing gown on over her nightdress. Before Ella became her handmaiden, she would often be dressed.

But, this morning, she's curled on her side, blankets up to her ear, with Arthur spooned behind her.

"Go away," Arthur quietly grumbles, turning slightly towards his servant. Merlin jumps back and turns away. Arthur's movement has revealed a portion of Guinevere's shoulder and back . Guinevere's _bare_ shoulder and back.

"You have training this morning," Merlin says, his back to Arthur. _This hasn't happened since just after they were married. Usually,_ _they're much more discreet. Gwen is generally very mindful of propriety,_ he puzzles.

"Leon can run it," Arthur answers. Merlin can hear him setting back into bed, clearly having no intention of rising.

"But..."

"Merlin," Arthur interrupts, turning towards Merlin again, "we were up most of the night—"

"Yes, I—" Merlin stammers, his ears turning bright red.

"_Talking_," the king emphasizes. "Well, mostly. Regardless, we both need sleep, and sleep we shall have."

"Arthur..." Guinevere mumbles, stirring, "what...?"

"Shh, Love, go back to sleep," Arthur softly says, snuggling against her and kissing her hair.

Merlin sighs. "I'll inform Sir Leon," he says. "And I guess I'll just... handle things until..."

"We are not to be disturbed before noon," Arthur mutters drowsily.

"Yes, my lord," Merlin says. He pauses. "Oh, Mrs. Seward's delivery is being made. I saw the cart go out just moments ago," he informs. Arthur grunts a nearly-intelligible "thank you" in response, and Merlin heads back through the curtains and out the door, wondering what it was they were up most of the night discussing. _Obviously, it was something important._

He sees Ella in the corridor, heading towards him, and he stops her. "They're not to be disturbed until noon," he tells her.

She nods, but looks confused. "Is everything all right?" she asks, still concerned about her mistress after her breakdown two days past.

"Yes, they're fine, nothing to worry about," Merlin smiles reassuringly, and heads towards the training grounds. _Yes. Nothing to worry about at all._ He's not sure how, but he knows whatever happened between the king and queen last night was something very good.

**A/N: This was one of the most difficult chapters I've ever written, and I must give co-author credit to my amazing and wonderful (and humble, as she wishes to remain anonymous) beta!**


	11. Chapter 11

The new moon came the following week. This time when Guinevere wept, it was not as much as before and she did so in Arthur's arms. He didn't say a word; he just held her, giving her small, soft kisses and stroking her back.

"It's... it's probably a good thing this time," she said with a sniffle, lifting her head. "If I had conceived while under Morgana's enchantment..."

Arthur kissed her softly, gently stopping her words. "Guinevere, we were only together once during your enchantment," he reminded her, his thumbs tenderly sweeping the tears from her cheeks. "We've been together several times since we've returned, however," he added, waggling his brows, intending to coax a smile from her.

His attempt worked, and she smiled, a small giggle also escaping. "Yes, I suppose we have," she allowed. "Still, it's good that there is no chance, no cause for concern over..." she could not bring herself to finish the sentence, too many questions whirring in her brain. _Would the enchantment have affected the baby? Would the lifting of the enchantment have harmed him? Would I... would we... would we have not loved the baby as much as he deserved because of the shadow looming over him from possibly being conceived under unfortunate circumstances?_ The last thought was almost too much to bear, and a few more tears slipped from her eyes.

"Guinevere... I know, I know," Arthur soothed, pulling her into his arms again, obviously plagued by the same fears. "But," he stopped, swallowing hard, "but, we can put those concerns behind us. It didn't happen, and for the first time in three years, we can... we can take comfort in the fact that my seed has not taken hold."

She nodded and lifted her face to his, kissing him. "Yes," she said. "Just this once," she added with a gentle smile.

Guinevere gradually returned to her normal duties, attending Council meetings and audiences in the throne room. Merlin began tutoring Mordred, helping him control and develop his gifts. Occasionally, Arthur sat in and watched these sessions. He did so first out of curiosity. The times after that were out of interest. He found he was fascinated by watching Merlin and Mordred, amazed at what his manservant could do. Mordred continued to flourish as a knight as well, and when he wasn't with Merlin, he was following Leon around like an eager puppy, wishing to learn all he could.

Percival looked in on Mrs. Seward twice a week, more if she asked. He genuinely liked the kind older woman, and when she found out his family had all died at Cenred's hands, they fell into a sort of mother-son relationship, filling a void in both their lives. He also decided to appoint himself the Queen's Bodyguard. When he wasn't fulfilling his knightly duties or assisting Mrs. Seward, he was usually not far from Queen Guinevere, keeping her under his watchful eye.

The days passed as they do; some fast, some slow. The slow days are by far the worst because thoughts and memories creep in to fill the empty spaces. Once, Arthur entered the royal chambers, tired and sweaty from training, to find his wife sitting and staring absently out the window, a book forgotten in her lap.

"Guinevere," he softly called her name, walking towards her. She turned and looked at him, her face sad. "What's wrong, my love?"

"Just... thinking. Remembering," she said.

"Remembering what?" he asked, sitting beside her on the upholstered bench.

She set her book aside. "Elyan. Morgana. Lancelot. How they used to be."

Arthur nodded, realizing he doesn't feel any jealousy over her mention of Lancelot._ It's over and done_. "Anything else?" he asked, caressing her cheek.

"Three years," she quietly said. She doesn't need to elaborate.

"Three years for which we need to make up." He smiled apologetically.

She quirked her head at him. "I no longer see it that way," she said. "We had the one big problem that needed sorting out. We've had our disagreements and trials; every couple does. But, we cannot forget that we also had some very happy moments, Arthur."

"Not every couple has a husband who was an idiot for three years," Arthur pointed out.

"You are not an idiot, Arthur," she disagreed. "You were protecting yourself. You've been betrayed so many times by those closest to you."

"That is an unacceptable excuse," Arthur said, frowning.

Guinevere took his hands in hers. "Do we need to have this conversation again? Is there something that still troubles you?" she gently asked, searching her husband's face for any lingering doubt. She patiently waited while Arthur pondered her questions.

"No," he affirmed.

Guinevere placed her hand on his cheek and continued. "Good. Even so, it is good for us to remember those years. I think we've learned that pretending something didn't happen does not erase it."

"I think we've learned that it makes it worse, actually," Arthur pointed out.

Guinevere nodded. "We must keep these things in mind so we do not repeat them."

"No more sweeping _anything_ under the rug, my love," he agreed, kissing her.

xXx

Guinevere has been anxious all day. A month has passed since the last new moon, and tonight is the next one.

Tonight is the new moon, and she hasn't bled yet. Every time she has to empty her bladder, she holds her breath, expecting to find the kind of blood that is always there on this day. Always.

She's been like clockwork since her courses started. New moon: blood. Guinevere knows she is fortunate in this. It doesn't happen on an odd phase of the moon, one that is more difficult to pinpoint. It's regular and predictable. When she was still a servant, she would hear some of the other serving girls complaining about how their courses were inconsistent. One unfortunate girl would bleed for weeks and then not at all for the next several months, forcing her to see the midwife regularly for medicinal herbs.

So, come bedtime when there is _still_ no blood, Guinevere doesn't know whether to be hopeful or not. _Would it be jumping to conclusions? Dare I hope?_

"Guinevere," Arthur says after she emerges from behind the privacy screen, "it's the new moon, Love..." he cautiously starts, watching her pace. He hasn't seen her much today, but in the back of his mind he has been aware all along of this day's significance. "Guinevere," he repeats, approaching her and stopping her fretful pacing with his hands on her shoulders.

"I know," she answers, stepping into his embrace. She rests her head on his chest. "I... there's nothing," she whispers.

"Nothing? Nothing as in... no baby, or nothing as in no blood?" he asks, his heart suddenly pounding.

"No blood," she says, looking up at him. She searches his eyes, hoping to find answers in their blue depths, but he looks just as befuddled as she. "I've been checking almost obsessively..."

"Does that mean...?" he asks, holding his breath.

"I don't know," she answers. "I've never been late before, as you know, but... I'm... I'm frightened, Arthur. I'm afraid to even hope."

He tightens his arms around her, holding her gently but securely, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I know, Love, I know. We shouldn't jump to conclusions," he says, but doesn't feel the words. Arthur guides her to the bed, where he sits and pulls her onto his lap. "How do you feel?" he asks, trying to approach this logically.

"Physically, the same. Emotionally, I'm a bit scattered," she says. "I mean, I'm tired and my emotions are all over the place, but that could be caused as much by all that has happened as much as being with child." Arthur gives her an incredulous look, wondering how she knows she would be tired and moody if she was with child. "Women talk about these things, Arthur," she explains. "Honestly, though, I don't know how to feel. If I should be hopeful or worried. What if something is wrong, and that's the reason I haven't..."

"Shh, don't say things like that," Arthur gently hushes, kissing her. "All right. Let's think. If... if there is still nothing by the end of the day tomorrow, we'll bring in the midwife to examine you."

"Tomorrow? Should we not wait another day further?" she asks, not wishing to be hasty.

"Guinevere, you'll drive yourself mad by then," Arthur points out. "And, I won't be faring much better," he admits. He kisses her again, then slides her from his lap. "Come. Let's get some sleep."

"I'll try," she says, slipping beneath the covers. Arthur walks around to the other side and joins her, pulling her into his arms. She cuddles against him, grateful for his solid, warm presence. "Thank you, Arthur."

"You're welcome, Guinevere," he answers. "For what am I being thanked, exactly?"

She lightly swats his chest. "For being here with me. For listening. For keeping a calm head while I'm losing mine."

He smiles and kisses her forehead. "Usually, it is you who has the calm head, my love," he points out. "And, trust me, this composed demeanor is all on the outside," he admits. "Inside, I'm a gooey mess over the possibility of a baby."

xXx

"Well?"

Arthur has been fretful all day, hovering over Guinevere like a mother hen. Every time she returns from excusing herself, he asks.

"Arthur, I just needed a handkerchief," she says, trying to remain patient with him while she's on pins and needles herself. She sits at the table and picks at her lunch. "Merlin, does the king have any duties this afternoon?"

"No, my lady," Merlin asks, puzzled at their exchange. He's been with Mordred most of the morning and hasn't seen much of the king or queen until now.

"Well... _do _something with him this afternoon before I lose my sanity. Please," she says.

"Hang on!" Arthur protests. "You're just as anxious."

"Yes, and your added anxiety isn't helping. What happened to last night's 'composed demeanor'?" she asks.

"It went out the window as soon as I saw your face this morning," he answers, reaching for her hand and kissing it.

"Excuse me," Merlin interrupts, completely befuddled.

"Yes, Merlin," Guinevere answers.

"I feel like I've missed something," he says. "Why do I need to 'do something' with Arthur this afternoon? Why is he making you crazy? Well, I guess I can understand _that_..." he pauses, smiling. "But, why are both of you so anxious?"

"Merlin," Arthur suddenly says, an idea striking him, "you have magic."

"Yes...?"

"Arthur, I don't know..." Guinevere says, following her husband's train of thought.

"Well, it's worth asking, I think," Arthur presses. "Can you... can you _tell_ anything about Guinevere? Such as, is there anything _different_ about her?" he asks Merlin.

"Can you be more specific, Sire?" Merlin responds, his patience starting to grow thin.

"Yesterday was the new moon," Guinevere quietly says. "There was nothing." She doesn't need to explain further. Merlin is the picture of discretion when it comes to the personal matters of the king and queen, but she knows he is aware of her courses. Having been a handmaiden herself, she is well aware of the level of intimacy to which a personal servant is privy.

"Oh... _oh!_" Merlin exclaims, his eyes widening. "Oh..."

"Merlin," Arthur says, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, shush, from the looks of things, you've been insufferable all morning, so you have no right to judge me for getting excited," he dismissively waves his hand at his king. He now knows what is being asked of him, and he hurries over towards Guinevere, kneeling beside her. "Um, I have to touch your stomach," he informs his queen.

Guinevere nods, and scoots her chair back to accommodate him. "I assume you've never done this," she says.

"No, I haven't. Never had the need," Merlin says. "So... I can't guarantee I'll be able to discern anything, but... I'm just going to see..." he pauses, thinking a moment. "Yes. I'll just see if I can detect any life within you. Apart from your own, obviously."

"This won't hurt her? Or the baby?" Arthur asks.

"Arthur, this was _your_ idea."

"I would never do anything to hurt Gwen! I told you already!"

Both answers come simultaneously.

"All right, proceed," Arthur nods.

Guinevere smiles and Merlin sighs, leaning over her. His hand hovers over her stomach, almost afraid to touch.

"I trust you, Merlin," she says. Then, she gently takes his hand and places it on her abdomen.

Arthur leans forward, watching. A moment later, he stands and moves to the other side of the queen's chair, kneeling beside her.

Merlin closes his eyes and whispers a short incantation. He opens his eyes on the final word, and they flash gold for a moment.

Neither Guinevere nor Arthur speak, waiting for Merlin. Guinevere holds her breath. Arthur holds her hand.

"I think..." Merlin whispers, his fingers unconsciously flexing, "yes. It's... small. New. Like the bud of a new leaf on a tree..."

"Truly?" Guinevere asks, tears springing to her eyes.

Merlin looks up at her, his eyes equally moist. "I believe so. It's... beautiful, Gwen. I've never experienced anything like it." He looks over at Arthur to see him crying as well, wide-eyed, with a look of wonder on his face.

"I wish I could see... or feel... what it is you just experienced," he says.

"You'll have a lifetime of it, Arthur," Merlin says, lifting his hand from Gwen's abdomen and standing.

Arthur reaches for his wife, hugging her tightly to him, kissing her hair, her forehead, her tear-wet cheeks, and finally, her lips. He wishes he had the words to describe how he is feeling, but in his heart, he knows his Guinevere understands.

"Oh, Arthur..." she whispers. He can feel her slightly trembling in his arms, overcome by positive emotions for a change. "I did it. _We_ did it..."

"Yes, Love," he manages, his voice hoarse. "Yes, we did." He wipes her tears and vaguely becomes aware of Merlin quietly clearing the lunch dishes. He kisses her one more time, then stands, clearing his throat. Merlin hands him a napkin without looking at him. Arthur snatches it in annoyed gratitude and wipes his own tears. Then, he throws it at Merlin's head.

"I'll summon the midwife. Discreetly," Merlin says, casually removing the napkin from his head and placing it on the tray.

"Is it still necessary?" Arthur asks.

"You're going to trust _my_ word alone?" Merlin replies, a knowing smirk on his face. "Honestly, it's the best course of action. I sensed something there, but it's best to call in a professional."

"I agree," Guinevere says. "I would like to see the midwife."

"Of course," Arthur concurs. He stands and begins pacing. "So much to plan..." he starts mumbling. "We'll need to set up a suitable nursery for him... have to start thinking of names... oh, and a nursemaid will need to be found..."

"Arthur, we have plenty of time," Guinevere says, standing and going to him. "Relax, Love."

He keeps rambling. "Oh, dear, a nursemaid... we'll have to make certain she's..." he stops, his face falling. He looks down at his wife. "Morgana."

"I know," she whispers. "I just thought of that, too."

"She will _not_ be pleased," Merlin says, frowning. "This child will be before her in succession to the throne."

xXx

The midwife arrives mid-afternoon, and she summarily dismisses both Merlin and Arthur, declaring, "This is no place for a man, king or not." Merlin leads a sulking Arthur to Gaius' quarters to keep him occupied.

"She can be trusted?" Arthur asks as they walk.

"Yes. She told me she delivered _you_," Merlin points out.

"I know, that's why I'm asking. I don't know if my father tried to blame her for my mother's death after I was born," he says. "You know how he was."

"All too well," Merlin says. "Uther knew it wasn't the midwife's fault. He knew it was his own. He turned his anger on magic, not Mildred."

"Just making sure. Guinevere's safety is my top priority, _especially_ now," Arthur says.

"I understand, and I made sure she was clear on the need for discretion," Merlin nods. "You should have seen the way Mildred's face lit up when she saw it was me who had come to call on her," he says. "Her eyes were as wide as saucers. She was giddy with excitement."

Arthur chuckles. "Giddy? Surely she's a bit, you know, _old_ to be giddy."

"She was giddy," Merlin insists, opening the door. "And, she's not _that_ old."

"Congratulations, Sire," Gaius greets them. "Merlin told me the news."

"Thank you, Gaius," Arthur answers absently. His mind has been spinning since lunch, a mixture of elation and worry. He's not troubled over Merlin telling Gaius. He trusts Gaius, and since he is the court physician, he needs to be informed so that he can give Guinevere the proper care should anything arise. "Gaius," he starts. A question has been on his mind.

"Yes?" the physician responds, walking over.

"Why now, do you think? I mean... did the... whatever Merlin did at the cauldron... did that..." he waves his hand, struggling to find the right words, "did it _fix_ something to allow Guinevere to conceive where she couldn't before?"

"Did the White Goddess heal her womb to make it receptive to your seed, you mean?" Gaius asks.

Arthur blinks at the old man's bluntness. "Um, yes."

"I do not think it works that way, Sire," Gaius says.

"Hmm," Arthur frowns.

"This troubles you," Gaius observes.

"It troubles me that you cannot say for certain," Arthur says. "It troubles me because if magic was involved in the conception of this child, then there's the very real possibility that... that Guinevere..." he falters a moment, then continues. "Magic was involved with my conception and my mother died because of it," he finishes, his face bleak.

"Arthur, the circumstances are completely different," Gaius points out. Merlin vehemently nods his agreement. "Your father bargained with a witch. You did not." The old man turns to Merlin. "Merlin, what did you ask of the Goddess?"

"I asked her to free Gwen from the enchantment under which Morgana held her captive," Merlin says. "I told her Gwen was good and pure and Morgana's enchantment was an abomination on one such as her. That Gwen was worthy of her aid." He looks at Arthur. "I didn't say anything at all about heirs or babies or... anything of that nature."

"Hmm," Gaius says. "Probably not then. The deities of the Old Religion are very specific. If you make a request, you must be very clear, and if your request is granted, you will receive no more than what you have asked."

"Then, why?" Arthur asks. "Why now?"

"Why does anything happen when it does?" Gaius asks in return. "Unfortunately, this particular issue is one that remains a mystery. Some people claim a woman cannot conceive because she is unworthy or is being punished for past wrongdoings." Arthur makes a derisive snort, and Gaius nods, continuing. "Exactly. I believe there are likely medical reasons that could prevent a woman from being able to bear children, but it is very difficult to diagnose such things."

"That makes more sense," Merlin agrees, tinkering with some vials on a shelf, turning them so all their labels are facing out.

"I also believe the man may be at fault in some cases," Giaus adds. "This is a rather unpopular opinion."

Arthur nods thoughtfully.

"You mean like how the farrier's wife wasn't able to bear him any children, but after he died and she married the cooper, she conceived almost immediately?" Merlin asks.

Arthur looks up sharply, surprised. "Town gossip?"

"Common knowledge," Merlin answers.

"And this is _exactly_ what I mean, Merlin," Gaius nods. "Unless she and Robert never..." he trails, not willing to finish the thought. He shakes his head. "Regardless, it is something I've seen. More often than not, it is a case of a woman bearing a child who looks nothing like her husband but suspiciously like an acquaintance of his..."

"_That_ would be town gossip," Merlin supplies.

"Well, whatever the reason, I am overjoyed the queen is with child," Gaius says, steering the conversation back to its original topic. He lifts a flask to which he's been adding ingredients, inspecting it, swirling it in front of his squinty eyes. "Whether you follow the Old Religion or the New, _someone_ saw fit to grant this blessing to you both."

"Yes," Arthur agrees, smiling wistfully. "I'm worried, Gaius," he admits after a moment.

"I know, Arthur," Gaius answers. "She will be fine. Better than fine. Gwen is strong."

"Stronger than me, most of the time," Arthur says, nodding. "It's just... Morgana's still out there..."

"Yes. But, Merlin is in _here_," Gaius reminds him, smiling fondly at his ward.

A knock sounds at the door a moment later. Merlin jogs to answer it.

"Is the king here? Ah. Arthur, the queen is asking for you," Gwaine says, stepping inside.

Arthur leaps to his feet and jogs past the confused knight.

xXx

The midwife pronounced Guinevere Definitely With Child and Definitely Very Healthy. She also took the time to fuss over Arthur, recalling him as a tiny babe, and expressed her gratitude at being allowed to bring his child into the world.

She ordered more rest for Guinevere, saying the queen should sleep whenever she felt like she needed it, and the only restriction she set was no fermented beverages. "And no hard labor," she added with a wink.

"How do you feel?" Arthur asks his wife after the midwife has left.

"Fine, Arthur," Guinevere answers, smiling. She's sitting on the bed, propped against the headboard with her feet stretched out in front of her. "How are you?" she asks, inclining her head at him.

"Worried," Arthur declares. He sits on the bed, lifting her feet and setting them in his lap, where he absentmindedly rubs them.

Guinevere nods, understanding her husband's concern. "The longer we can keep this news from Morgana, the safer the baby will be," she says. "Which means no official announcements until I physically cannot hide it anymore."

Arthur looks over at her, struck by her beauty, her kindness, her wisdom. As he always is. _She is my heart and my world. I truly do not know what I would do without her. _"Guinevere," he says, "about Morgana..."

"Yes?"

"You need to be protected from her," he simply says. "Protected in a way neither Percival nor I can provide."

Guinevere frowns slightly, understanding his meaning. "Is this really necessary?"

"Guinevere," Arthur looks at her, his face a mask of worry, "how can you think it _isn't_ necessary? Nothing is beneath Morgana. She will torture or kill you to kill our baby for no other reason than he is another obstacle to her taking the throne of Camelot. That's the only thing she cares about now. Power. She wants this kingdom, and she will not suffer anything or _anybody_ to stand in her way."

"I understand the danger, but... Arthur, I was just freed from an enchantment that controlled my every move. Surely you can understand why I'm hesitant to bear_ anothe_r enchantment, even if it is to protect me, even if it is from someone I completely trust."

"I cannot hide you for nine months, Love," Arthur says. "Merlin is the only one who can protect you in this _specific_ way. He is our best defense against Morgana. Guinevere," he reaches over and takes her hands in his, "I've almost lost you... at least four times now. Each time, it felt like my heart was being torn from my chest."

Guinevere looks at their joined hands as tears start to fall. "I... May I talk to Merlin about this? I'd like to... to know what is involved."

"Of course," Arthur answers, standing and going to the doors. There are two guards right outside, and Arthur sends one for Merlin. He sees Percival a distance away, standing at attention but somehow looking perfectly relaxed. Arthur nods at the knight and starts to head back into the royal chambers.

"Sire?" Percival's quiet voice stops him.

"Yes?" Arthur asks.

"Is the queen well?"

"Yes, Percival, she's fine," Arthur answers reassuringly.

Percival steps closer and lowers his voice. "May I speak freely?"

"Always," Arthur nods, interested.

"I saw the midwife come and go, Sire."

"You knew her then," Arthur says, slightly surprised the knight knows the identity of the midwife. _He does spend a lot of time in town with Guinevere..._

"Yes, Sire."

Arthur looks up at him and deliberately touches his index finger to his lips.

"Understood," Percival nods. Then, he smiles and returns to his post, watching the corridors.

"Percival, you can stand down. Guinevere will likely be here most of the day. She will send for you if your services are needed," Arthur says.

Percival nods. "I might look in on Mrs. Seward then, Sire."

"Very good," Arthur says, turning his head in the direction of footsteps that can only belong to Merlin.

"So?" Merlin asks, his face expectant.

"Inside," Arthur says, striding in before his servant.

"Is everything all right?" Merlin asks, concerned that the midwife found an irregularity he was unable to detect.

"Yes, everything's fine. You were right. Guinevere is with child. Mildred says she's very healthy and doesn't foresee any problems."

"Oh, good," Merlin says, following Arthur over to the bed where Guinevere is waiting.

"However, I think you and I can foresee some problems," Arthur says, sitting on the bed again. "Problems involving Morgana. Specifically, protecting Guinevere from Morgana," he pointedly adds.

"Yes," Merlin agrees, his smile falling. "Wait. You want to know if I can... if I can somehow protect her? Magically?"

"No," Arthur says. "I don't want to know if you can. I want you to do it." He glances at his wife. "If Guinevere consents, that is."

"Why would you not... oh, wait. I know why," Merlin says.

"It's not anything against you, Merlin," Guinevere says. "Perhaps if more time had passed since being freed from Morgana's enchantment..."

"I understand." Merlin nods.

"You will be guarded as much as possible using traditional means, of course," Arthur says. "If only for pretense. People will expect you to be protected, especially once the news is announced. We will need to tell my closest knights."

"Of course," Guinevere nods.

"Percival already knows," Arthur says. "He recognized the midwife. I've told him to keep it to himself."

"Gwaine knows something is afoot as well," Merlin says. "After you practically ran out of Gaius' rooms, he tried to ply me for information."

"Naturally," Guinevere says with a smile. "And, it seems your four favorites will be quite the secret-keepers," she adds with a sigh. "But, I guess it's part of the job."

Arthur nods. "Yes, it is. Believe me, Guinevere, keeping secrets is no hardship. Our knights would gladly do this and much more. They _have_. Do you remember what I told you about rescuing you from the tower?"

Guinevere nods and whispers, "You said you did not want Elyan," she falters, remembering her courageous brother, blinks, then continues, "Percival, Leon, Gwaine, and Merlin to feel obligated and endanger themselves. You told them you would go alone."

"Do you remember what I told you about how they responded?"

Guinevere slowly nods, her eyes meeting Arthur's. "They were coming with because I am their queen and friend."

"And, sister," Merlin adds, his eyes flickering with intensity. "_None_ of us were coming home without you."

"Exactly right," Arthur asserts with a nod.

Guinevere takes a deep breath, bites her lip, and bows her head, heartsick at the thought of anyone putting himself in harm's way on her behalf. "They shouldn't have risked their lives."

Arthur gently places his hands on his wife's arms. "I couldn't stop them, Guinevere! Our knights, _our_ _friends_, regard looking after you as neither a duty nor an obligation." He tenderly lifts her chin with his finger and notices the struggle in her deep brown eyes. "Love, do you not see? Our knights consider guarding you a privilege. An honor. You are worth this and _so_ much more." Merlin nods in agreement.

Arthur continues, "The worst thing you could do is not allow these fine, noble men to do what they are compelled in their hearts to accomplish – _ensuring the safety of someone very dear to them_." He says the last several words very softly, yet insistently, willing them to erase his wife's doubts.

"Oh, Arthur," Guinevere responds and leans on her husband's shoulder, allowing his words to wash over her. She sighs, lifts her head, and looks at him, "I will try not to do that."

Arthur smiles, "Good. Thank you." He takes her hands and kisses them. "Now, to the matter at hand. Guinevere, you need protection. But, you require more than just a giant bodyguard, a skilled swordsman, a madman with no regard for his own personal safety, and an eager young knight willing to do anything to prove his worth. Even more than having the Ultimate Killing Machine as a husband."

"Your ability to kill things is probably very low on Gwen's list of reasons why she married you," Merlin points out.

Arthur ignores him and continues. "We have Merlin's abilities on our side. He's willing to do this for you," he pauses, glancing at Merlin, who nods. "And, you know he would never do anything to hurt you or our baby."

"Gwen," Merlin says, pulling a chair over to sit at the side of the bed, "You know I hate to say this, but Arthur's right. You're well aware that in the majority of the disagreements I hear between the two of you, I will always side with you on principle if nothing else." He pauses, smiling impishly at her for a second, ignoring Arthur's glare. "But, in this rare case, I agree with Arthur. You need to be kept safe. That little, innocent life within you needs to be kept safe. Once again, I am the only one who can ensure it in this particular way. Morgana will find out you are with child. This much is known. What we don't know is when. Please, let me protect you from Morgana. I promise you won't even notice the spell is there."

"If you truly, _truly_ do not want Merlin to place his protection over you, I won't force you. I will not have him do it without your consent. But... _please_, Love. If not for you or for me, for our baby." Arthur gently squeezes her hands.

"Very well," Guinevere whispers her answer, touched by their concern for her. She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. "The only thing I wish is for this child to be safe and healthy. I must do everything I can to make sure of that."

"Good thing you have me around then," Merlin says, smiling at her.

"Thank you, Merlin," she says, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He blushes slightly. Then, she sits forward and kisses Arthur, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, Arthur," she whispers. She leans back against the headboard again. "All right."

"Can you do this now?" Arthur asks Merlin. He nods, and indicates Arthur should move.

Arthur gets off the bed and stands close by, leaning against the large post at the corner of the bed. "I am fully aware of my hypocrisy, just so you know," he says.

Merlin merely snorts. "You're the one who makes the laws now," he says, standing as well. "Lie flat, please," he tells Guinevere. She complies, and he extends both hands, palms down, over her. He closes his eyes.

Arthur watches, now accustomed to the routine: speaking in a strange tongue, eyes flashing gold, something happening.

This time, the something is a faint golden light extending from Merlin's hands until it surrounds Guinevere's body like a shimmering halo. Merlin says a final word and it disappears, fading inward, into her skin, which continues to glow for a moment longer, then fades completely.

Guinevere has been watching with wide eyes the entire time, and when Merlin finishes, she looks at Arthur.

"How do you feel?" he asks.

"Good," she answers. "It was... warm. Comforting. Like a soft blanket wrapped around me."

"How do we know it worked?" Arthur asks Merlin. "I mean, can _you_ see it? If you touch her hand, can you, you know, feel it?"

"I can see it because I'm the one who placed it on her and I want to be able to see it to make sure it remains," Merlin says. "No one else will notice anything. Not even a magic user. Not Mordred, and he is my pupil. Not even Morgana, a High Priestess."

"Good," Arthur declares. He looks at Guinevere. "Do you still want Merlin to _do_ something with me this afternoon?" he asks, smiling.

"Only if you wish," she answers, reaching for his hand.

"Well, in that—"

"Actually, you have parchments piling up over there," Merlin interrupts and points at the desk. Arthur groans. "Oh, yes, it's so difficult being king, I know," he says, lightly pushing Arthur towards the desk. "Try being a servant once, then you can complain." Guinevere laughs as her husband scowls. "See, Gwen understands," Merlin continues. "Of course, she _has_ been a servant, so she would..."

"Merlin..." Arthur warns.

"Right. Shall I go talk to the knights?" he offers.

"Is that all right with you, Love?" Arthur asks.

"It's fine with me," Guinevere says.

"I'll tell them in Gaius' rooms, away from everyone else," Merlin says, heading for the door.

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur calls, his head bent over his desk.

"Yes, thank you. For everything," Guinevere echoes, reaching for her needlepoint. _I should start making things for the baby,_ she immediately thinks, then realizes she's the queen and doesn't _need_ to make anything. But, she realizes she wants to, and straight away ideas for little outfits, blankets, and tiny socks start dancing across her brain.

xXx

"Why did you tell me there was no place for magic in Camelot?" Arthur suddenly asks. He is sitting on the steps to the courtyard with Merlin. Guinevere was tired after dinner, and wished to take a bath and retire early. It is a beautiful, warm night, and Arthur's mind is still overactive, so he left her to her solitude, knowing his restlessness would not allow her to fully relax if he remained in their chambers.

Merlin looks at Arthur, surprised he would remember that particular conversation. He ponders his answer carefully. _Should I tell him about the prophecy? He's been through so much lately. I hate to burden him further_.

"When I went to the Disir to petition for Mordred's life," Arthur continues, misinterpreting Merlin's silence. "I asked you what I should do, and you plainly stated there could be no place for magic in Camelot."

"I remember," Merlin quietly says. "I was pondering my answer."

"So, you _do_ remember saying it," Arthur says.

"Of course," Merlin answers. "And the answer is not simple. I also know things now I did not know then, and I'm trying to be mindful of that before giving you my answer."

"Very well," Arthur nods, staring out at the courtyard, watching the pages light the torches as the sun sets.

A pair of serving girls emerge from the castle and scurry down the steps. They nod as they pass Arthur and Merlin, heading home for the night.

Merlin watches them leave and sees all the people milling around. He whispers a few words and envelops Arthur and himself in an invisible bubble.

"What did you just do?" Arthur asks.

"Gave us some privacy. No one will be able to take note of what we are saying. They'll hear us talking, but none of the words will penetrate," Merlin says.

Arthur stares at him. "I don't know whether to be impressed or worried."

"Both," Merlin advises.

Arthur continues to contemplate the mystery that is his servant, then slowly nods. "So," Arthur begins as he gathers his thoughts, "what are these things you know?"

"There is a prophecy," Merlin says, staring out over the courtyard. "A prophecy about your death."

"I don't want to know," Arthur says, dread stealing over him. Somehow, he understands he's going to hear about it anyway.

"I didn't either," Merlin answers. "It involves Mordred."

"Oh, come now, don't tell me Mordred's going to kill me," Arthur says, looking at Merlin.

Merlin's silence is answer enough.

"Mordred is going to kill me?" His voice is weak, tinged with heartbreak.

"Maybe," Merlin says. "When you asked me the question about magic, it seemed pretty definite. Everything, _everything_ I saw, heard or read seemed to reinforce this."

"_Mordred?_"

"Arthur, I know it seems impossible," Merlin says. "He's so eager. Has such potential. But... he's fragile. He has difficulty with his feelings."

"I understand that, Merlin. You know I do. It could be the reason why I'm so fond of the boy. We have that in common."

"Yes, but when you have difficulty with your feelings, you don't accidentally set items on fire," Merlin says. "Or blast things fifty feet."

Arthur is shocked. "'Blast things'? 'Set items on fire'? You've seen him do this?

Merlin nods. "Occasionally, he gets frustrated during his lessons. Occasionally, I allow him to vent that frustration. Out in the forest, obviously."

Arthur looks down at his feet. "You said 'maybe' a minute ago."

"The prophecy is not as certain as it once was," Merlin explains. "Mordred has been making good choices. _I_ have been making good choices."

"You?"

"I spoke with Kilgarrah after Mordred and I had our audience with you," he says. "He told me the path is changing. That the prophecy won't come to pass if Mordred stays on the path of light."

"You have to keep him on this path?" Arthur guesses.

"I have to do everything in my power to do so," Merlin says. "Ultimately, the choice is Mordred's. Kilgarrah said Mordred will have one more test he must pass in order to permanently change it. Get rid of it."

"What is the nature of this test?"

"I don't know. And, the scary part is I don't think I'll be involved. It'll be something he must do without my aid."

"Oh," Arthur forlornly says.

"I will do all I can to prepare him for this test, whatever it is, whenever it comes. I promise you that."

"Thank you," Arthur says. "It does explain something though," he adds.

"What, exactly?"

"There were times I would notice a... tension... between the two of you. You did not trust him."

"No, I didn't."

"Because of this prophecy."

"And, one or two other things. Mordred and I have crossed paths a few times, actually."

"Have you?"

"Another time, Arthur," Merlin says with a sigh. "Anyway, this is why I said what I said. It sounds terrible, but I had to let Mordred die in order to save you."

"Mordred didn't die," Arthur points out. "As you well know."

"No, he didn't. The Disir allowed him to live because they knew of the prophecy."

"Wait. So... because I told them I wouldn't embrace the Old Religion, they let Mordred live anyway because they knew he was prophesied to kill me?" Arthur exclaims, aghast. "That's..."

"Horrible. Which is _why_ I need to make sure he is fully prepared for this unknown test. He must know he is loved and accepted here. That this is a safe place for him. That... that magic _will_ be allowed in Camelot one day soon."

"When Morgana is gone," Arthur supplies.

"Morgana," Merlin agrees. "She is the reason why, then and now, magic cannot be allowed back in Camelot. As long as she lives, there is too much risk. It would be extremely easy for her to gather allies, to lure people down her dark path. If you issued a decree tomorrow legalizing the use of magic, Morgana would take full advantage of it. She could build an army. She could infiltrate the castle with spies, spies who may not truly be aware of their actions. This is the_ othe_r explanation as to why I answered as I did."

Arthur nods. "I see." He watches the clouds for a few quiet minutes, noting the pinks and oranges caused by the setting sun, how the eastern sky is already dark. Eventually, he looks at Merlin curiously. "How often have you done this?"

"Done what?" Merlin asks.

"Sacrificed your own needs for the greater good. In this case, you disregarded your own desires, chose to stay hidden on your already difficult path because you knew the risks were too great. Are yet too great."

"Almost every day since I arrived here," Merlin answers immediately. "I told you, Arthur. My purpose is to see to it that you fulfill your destiny. As far as most people know, my job is to be your servant, but my _true_ duty is to protect you, whatever the cost to me." He snorts a small laugh. "And, if that means polishing armor and picking up your socks, so be it."

Arthur chuckles a little with him. "I've gotten better about the socks. Guinevere has gently shown me the error of my ways in that respect," he admits.

"I have noticed," Merlin chuckles, then turns serious again. "If you think about it, my counseling you to keep magic illegal isn't entirely selfless. If Morgana found out about me, the first thing she would do is try to kill me because she'll know I am protecting you."

Arthur nods again, wondering how many times, without his knowledge, Merlin has put his life on the line for him. _It'_s_ probably quite a few times over the last ten years or so_. "With freedom to use her power, surely she would be more dangerous."

"Yes," Merlin agrees. "For what it's worth, I don't think what the Disir wanted was fair."

"No?" Arthur asks.

"No. They were asking you to completely embrace something about which you know very little. Something you had been taught was evil. You now know that's not entirely true, but... demanding a man completely change his beliefs to save the life of one person?" Merlin exhales. "That's asking quite a bit. It was an unrealistic request, and one for which I don't believe a correct answer existed."

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Arthur says. "Why do you think they did it?"

"I cannot pretend to know the mind of a deity of the Old Religion," Merlin says. "But, they want you to fail. I'm fairly certain of this."

Arthur is resolute. "We will prove them wrong. That's the thing about prophecies, Merlin. They do not account for free will."

Merlin is surprised at Arthur's remarkably astute statement. "Yes," he says. "We've already begun changing it. Its certainty has already weakened."

"It comes down to Mordred and that test," Arthur says. He's putting on a brave face, but Merlin can tell he's really quite troubled.

"Yes. I wish I could give you more reassurance about it," Merlin says.

"I know. Just... look after him."

"I will. He's quite young yet, which is good and bad. He can be guided, molded, but doesn't always understand things."

"He is a decent lad, but, yes, sometimes he is... unsettlingly_ still_. Like a statue, taking everything in. Then, just as quickly, he snaps out of it and is back to being a focused knight."

"He's very smart," Merlin says. "Remarkable memory. The challenge right now is getting him to use his magic without his feelings manipulating it. We're making progress."

"Good," Arthur nods. "He has a lot of potential."

"Yes."

"Thank you for telling me. I know it couldn't have been easy for you," he adds.

"It wasn't. I did not want to, but neither did I want to keep it from you," Merlin says. "I'm sorry to add more heartbreak. Especially now."

Arthur sighs. "It's like setting a broken bone or dislocated joint, I guess. Best to do quickly, all at once."

They sit quietly for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts.

"Merlin," Arthur breaks the silence, "do you remember when you referred to yourself as my brother and I denied it?"

"Yes..." Merlin hesitantly answers.

"I was wrong," Arthur says. He companionably claps Merlin on the shoulder, stands, and disappears into the castle.


	12. Chapter 12

The first months of Queen Guinevere's pregnancy were quiet and relatively free of problems. The only exception was she felt ill nearly all the time. She knew of morning sickness from the other maids' stories. The midwife had also made mention of it.

However, no one informed her that the "morning" part was not necessarily true for everyone. When she expressed concern about this to Mildred, the midwife had simply patted her hand and said, "Yes, it sometimes happens that way."

And so, quite often, Queen Guinevere of Camelot could be seen munching little bits of bread or delicately sipping water, trying to stave off the feelings of nausea. She soldiered on, hiding her discomfort as best she could as she tried to keep up with as many of her duties as possible. Arthur, Merlin, Gaius, Mildred, Ella, and the four knights were the only people who knew of Guinevere's condition.

"It's awful," she had complained to Arthur. "I feel ill and don't want to eat, but if I _don't_ eat, I'll feel worse." She sighed and added, "At least I haven't needed the bucket since last week."

He simply held his wife, letting her vent her frustrations. "I wish I could help," he finally said, feeling useless.

"You do help," she insisted. "You help by listening when I complain. By being here for me. Being here _with_ me."

Morgana continued to bide her time, and the months since Guinevere's enchantment was lifted have been quiet and pleasant. The days are now growing shorter and chillier as autumn continues to settle in, and Guinevere has found that she doesn't mind the cooler air this year. Her baby is keeping her warm.

But, even though Morgana seems to have retreated, her presence always looms. She is always on their minds.

"Arthur," Guinevere broached one night over a quiet dinner alone in their chambers, "I know I've got bodyguards and Merlin's protective charm and everything, but…"

"You still do not feel safe?" Arthur asked.

"No, no, it's not that," she said. "I think I should carry some small weapon with me. Just in case."

Arthur smiled sadly. "I had been planning to train you in the art of combat," he said. "I realize you know some basic fighting skills, but I wanted you to learn more."

"Then, the baby happened," Guinevere said.

"Then, the baby happened," Arthur echoed. "So, it will have to wait." He took her hand and kissed it. "Obviously, I agree. We'll find you a nice discreet dagger you can wear, and I'll show you the most effective way to use it."

"Will you still train me after?" she asked, clearly pleased by the idea. "The exercise might help me regain my figure after being all…" She puffed her cheeks out and extended her arms, bent in a circle around her middle.

Arthur chuckled. "I don't think you'll be _quite_ that robust, my love."

Guinevere shrugged. "Some of my gowns are already not fitting well and it has only been three months," she pointed out.

"I'm rather enjoying the way they're not fitting well in _some_ places," Arthur added suggestively, letting his eyes land on her breasts, which have been fighting with her bodices lately.

"Arthur..." she said, trying not to giggle.

"We'll bring the seamstress in tomorrow," he said, gently tugging her hand, still clasped in his.

Guinevere stood and moved to his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. "I think we may have to make the announcement sooner than we anticipated."

He turned and kissed her forehead. "When we must, we must. My son is in charge, apparently."

"Could be a daughter," Guinevere added, smiling against his neck.

"Indeed it could," Arthur agreed. "Guinevere," he looked down at her, and waited until she turned her face up to his before he continued. "I want you to know I don't care if the baby is a boy or a girl. If it's a girl, I won't be disappointed in the slightest." He leaned his head to kiss her nose. "Especially if she's as beautiful and wise as her mother."

xXx

"She was quite an adept learner, I must say," Arthur says, raising his glass to Guinevere in salute as he brags about her skill with the dagger he presented to her earlier in the day. They are having a private dinner with "The Four," as Gwaine dubbed himself, Percival, Leon, and Mordred. _"I suppose it's better than what he _could_ have come up with," Arthur had said with a shrug._

"Of course she was," Leon observes. "She knows how to use a knife. When I was still a squire, I saw her butcher and clean a chicken while she was helping her mother. To this day, I have never seen such expert knife-work."

"Leon is exaggerating, of course," Guinevere says, smiling as she waves him off. "Cooking is nothing like fighting."

"In any case, your forthcoming child will certainly be the most well-protected babe in the five kingdoms," Leon says with a chuckle.

"He's not wrong, though. A knife is still a knife, no matter what you're slicing with it. Or who," Gwaine volunteers with a grin. "And, you'd be surprised at the damage you can do with a spoon, if you've a mind." He picks up a spoon and moves towards Mordred, who ducks, then quickly snatches the spoon from Gwaine's hand and sets it out of the older knight's reach.

They all laugh except Merlin, who has been on the receiving end of an expertly-wielded spoon courtesy of Arthur. Arthur notices Merlin's lack of good humor and gives him an apologetic shrug.

Merlin allows his lips to curve into a smile, then turns his head sharply, thinking he sees movement in the shadows. They're behind locked doors, attended only by himself and Ella, so there should be no one else in the room.

Before he can say anything, a dagger flies straight for Arthur's head. Merlin's magical senses spring to life automatically, and he trains his eyes on the dagger, tracking its path as he grabs Arthur's shoulder and pulls him sharply to the right.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaims, bewildered and annoyed, just as the dagger sinks itself into the high wooden back of his chair.

Just where his head had been seconds before.

The king looks from the dagger to Merlin, his eyes wide.

The four knights are up in an instant. Gwaine stands guard, sword drawn, at the momentarily-stunned Arthur's right. Percival leaps to his feet from his place at Guinevere's left hand to protect her. Leon and Mordred make for the area from where the dagger would have come. Merlin peers into the shadows and sees the tail of a green cloak disappear. "Leon! To your left!" he shouts, then follows after them.

Arthur is staring at the dagger, still stuck in the wood beside his head. Gradually, his focus changes to his wife's frightened face. He shoves his chair out of the way and goes to her. "I'm all right," he whispers, gently pulling her into his arms. "I'm all right, and so are you," he repeats, wrapping his arms around her. The sounds of running footsteps and shouting reach them through the now-opened doors.

"Arthur," Guinevere whispers, holding his waist.

"I promised you I wouldn't go anywhere," he murmurs into her hair, holding her trembling form tightly while Gwaine and Percival begin searching the room, looking for any clues or signs of how the assassin gained access.

"It was so close," she says, looking up at him, her eyes wide. The alarm bells sound, and the noise outside increases.

He kisses her forehead. "Merlin saved me. Again."

"Yes, he did, and we will have to make sure to thank him," Guinevere says, squeezing Arthur around the waist. "When we see him again," she says, noting his absence.

"I wonder why he didn't just stop the dagger in mid-air?" Gwaine interjects, striding casually over.

"He couldn't risk giving himself away," Guinevere says, pulling gently away from Arthur, but staying close to his side. He wraps his arm around her.

"The assassin was almost certainly sent by Morgana," Arthur agrees. "So, his safest course of action was to move _me_, not the dagger."

Gwaine nods thoughtfully.

"There's blood on the handle of the dagger," Percival quietly remarks.

"What?" Arthur looks at the weapon. "So there is. Well spotted," he says. He takes a napkin and pulls the dagger from the wood, wrapping it around the knife. "I don't know if Merlin will be able to tell anything from the dagger or the blood, but..." he explains. "I can't believe I'm thinking of asking _Merlin_ for assistance with tracking down an assassin."

Guinevere smiles at him. "May as well use the resources at your disposal," she says. "And, you are right. He may be able to use the blood to help find the assassin."

Arthur looks down at her, his face full of wonder. "That was my thinking." He pauses a moment. "Are you all right?" he asks, his eyes flicking from her face to her abdomen and back.

"I'm fine, Arthur. I was just as surprised and scared as the rest of you, but I'm better now. You're alive and uninjured. The assassin will be found," she declares. "However, I _would_ like to retire, if you have no objections."

"Of course." He offers his arm. "Gwaine, once Guinevere and I are in our rooms, join the search. Please tell Sir Leon—"

"To have every man on high alert, leave no stone unturned, and try to catch the assassin alive, yes," Gwaine finishes as they walk to the royal chambers along little-used corridors, staying out of sight. "_And_, I'll take this dagger," he raises his hand, holding the napkin-wrapped weapon, "to Gaius' rooms for Merlin to inspect."

Arthur scowls as the brash knight recites, almost word-for-word, the orders he was about to give.

"Love, you have trained your men well. I understand that you really want to be out there leading the search, but it is _your_ life at stake here," Guinevere gently says.

"I'll check inside," Percival says, stepping in front of the king and queen and ducking inside their quarters.

Arthur nods and positions Guinevere close to the wall, blocked by himself and Gwaine. "I know the assassin is after me, but_ yo__u_ are my first priority," he tells her, tenderly touching her cheek. "Ella, please do not hover out in the open," he calls to the maid, beckoning her forth.

She gratefully rushes over, ducking her head in an automatic curtsey as she passes Arthur to stand beside her mistress. "Thank you, Sire," she whispers.

"What's taking Percival so long?" Gwaine wonders, watching as a pair of knights walk past.

"He's being thorough," Arthur says. "I know you're eager to get into the fray, but you'll have to wait."

"I am perfectly content to stand here and guard my queen," Gwaine retorts. "You, on the other hand, can fend for yourself," he grins, earning him a light shove on the shoulder from Arthur. "What? You're supposed to be better than all of us, right?" he continues teasing. "Wait, you did lose to me that time though..."

"Gwaine," Arthur says, "do not make me remind you of the time in Mercia when—"

"All right, yes, never mind," Gwaine interrupts. "It was just a misunderstanding," he says to the two women, feigning innocence. "I'm certain that tavern was already on fire when I got there. Well. Almost certain," he adds with an impish smile.

"Can you never take anything seriously?" Guinevere asks.

"The one time I did, you turned me down, Princess," he returns with a wink.

"Clear," Percival announces, emerging from the room. Arthur, Guinevere, and Ella head inside. "I'll be right out here," he tells them.

"I expect to be kept informed," Arthur instructs the two knights as he passes.

"Thank you, Percival," Guinevere says, pausing at the door. "Thank you, Gwaine."

Gwaine raises his already-drawn sword in salute and jogs away with a wicked grin on his face.

"Insane," Percival mutters, closing the doors. He listens for the sound of the bolt being slid into place, then assumes his post, blocking the doors.

Inside, Ella helps Guinevere change and prepare for bed, even though very little sleeping will be done.

"Please do try to rest, Love," Arthur says. "I don't think I'll be sleeping, but you need to. For yourself and the baby."

"I'd love a hot bath," Guinevere sighs, "but I know that's not going to happen tonight." She emerges from behind the privacy screen in her nightdress and begins walking to her vanity table. "Perhaps tomorrow then—oh!"

She trips and falls, landing on her right arm on the hard stone, her head nearly hitting the wooden frame of the bed.

"Guinevere!" Arthur rushes to her side, helping her up. He looks around. "Did you trip on something?"

"I think my foot became tangled in the hem of my gown," she says, getting to her feet, cradling her arm. She looks at her elbow, expecting a scrape or a bump. There isn't a mark at all. She tests her arm, straightening and bending it, flexing it this way and that. "Hmm," she puzzles. She turns her wrist in a circle.

"Are you all right?" Arthur asks, checking her over.

There is a soft knock at the door followed by Percival's muffled voice asking if all is well. Ella scurries over to answer.

Guinevere looks at Arthur, surprised. "I'm... I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt," she says. "Merlin's spell works."

"Tell Percival everything is fine," Arthur calls to Ella as he hugs Guinevere. "And you may go home, Ella. Be careful, please," he adds.

The maid nods and disappears.

"You're really uninjured?" Arthur asks, confirming. He walks to the doors and secures them, sliding the bolt into place.

"Yes," Guinevere answers. "It hurt when I fell, just like I would have expected, then... it was fine. As if nothing happened."

"Thank God," he sighs.

xXx

While Queen Guinevere sleeps fitfully in the security of the royal chambers, King Arthur, feeling useless and powerless, alternates between pacing in frustration and bothering Percival for updates. The Knights of Camelot search the castle and surrounding area for the assassin. Their hunt continues throughout the night, no one resting until Leon gives the order. The only clues on which they have to go are the culprit was wearing a green cloak and he will likely have a cut on his hand. It seems almost impossible that he could have disappeared, but if Morgana has sent this person, magic may be involved, so everyone is on high alert.

Well past midnight, Mordred rounds the corner of a dark, forgotten corridor, one he and Merlin use when they venture out to work in the forest. He's fairly certain most people don't know about it, and he'd prefer to keep it that way, so he undertakes it alone. As he creeps through the dimly-lit passageway, he sees motion ahead: the swish of a cloak. In the poor light, he cannot tell if it is green, but he immediately follows, his heart pounding, suddenly wishing he wasn't alone.

He hears quiet noises coming from a secluded corner nearby and silently heads in that direction.

The sight before him makes him very glad he's alone.

_Kara._

She finishes whispering to a black bird in her hands, then releases it, sending it out a high window.

"Kara," Mordred breathes her name, and she jumps in surprise.


	13. Chapter 13

"Mordred!" Kara gasps, rushing into his arms, her green cloak flowing behind her.

Mordred is happy to see his long-lost love, but very confused. "What are you doing here?" he asks, his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh, Mordred, I never thought I'd see you again," Kara says, not answering his question. "I have missed you so." She raises her hand to his face, stroking his cheek.

He sees a cut on her palm, below her thumb, and takes her hand in his, looking down at the injury. It looks fresh_. The blood. The green clo__a__k__. The raven._ "Kara, what are you doing here?" he asks again, more urgently.

She avoids his gaze. "I..."

"It was you," he says, his heart breaking. "You're the assassin."

She tries to pull away from his grasp, but he holds fast, having grown much stronger since she last saw him. "I am only doing what is right!" she says, her voice quiet, but cross. "Don't tell me you believe their lies!"

"You're doing what is _right_?" he asks, incredulously. "Right for whom? For Morgana? What message did you just send her? I saw you release a raven."

"Mordred... you're hurting my arm," she tries, pulling against his grasp.

"We both know that I am not," he counters. "You know I could never hurt you, Kara. I need you to tell me why you are doing this."

"The king is no friend to magic users," she says, her voice growing desperate. Her beloved Mordred seems to be on _their _side, and it frightens her. "He is the king his father made him, and will slaughter us all just because we have magic!"

"Kara, listen to me. Morgana knows only lies and deceit," Mordred counters. "She's using you. She has corrupted your mind and is taking advantage of you. Arthur is a good king. His understanding of those with magic is changing. It _has_ changed. Morgana knows nothing of what is in the king's heart, as she has forgotten how to listen to her own."

"No... no, it's not true," Kara argues. She stops struggling. "King Arthur must be destroyed and Morgana brought to the throne. Only then can magic be allowed to return to this land!" Her words sound hollow, and she recites them as though they have been drilled into her.

Mordred sighs heavily. "Kara. Please. Listen to me. Morgana is wrong. I know it. I... I cannot tell you how I know this, but please..." He pauses, pinching his eyes closed against the unbidden swell of magic rising within him. _Breathe. Control._ "Please, don't do this. Don't go back to her." He opens his eyes and looks at her, his eyes pleading.

Kara is quiet for a moment, her eyes distant. Then, as though a lever has been pulled inside her, she snaps to attentiveness again, pulling against his grasp. "No! You lie! Morgana is the true, rightful sovereign and queen of Camelot, not that fool, Arthur, and his _serving girl_! Lady Morgana will restore magic to this land and we will be _free_ again!"

"Kara…" Mordred pleads. "You must believe me. If Morgana rules,_ no one_ will be free! We will all be under her thumb… just like you are now."

She glares at him, looking at him long enough to note his attire. "What happened to you, Mordred?" she asks. "You... you're a Knight of Camelot... why? What lies have they been feeding you?"

"The only person who has been lied to is you, Kara," Mordred says. "Morgana doesn't know what really goes on within these walls. She's made you accept what she believes because neither of you knows the truth! Her quest for power has driven her quite mad."

"I don't believe you. You've turned your back on our kind. On _us_," Kara answers, but her voice falters.

_Her stinging accusation gives him pause, and he stills, looking away from her. Have I really turned my ba__ck on our kind by joining with Arthur, by becoming a knight? Merlin would have me believe I haven__'__t, but__…__ but what do I believe? Do I believe what Merlin has been teaching __me__? He tells me magic is a gift to be used to help others, not to be abused or used to harm. It is a gift and it is my responsibility to use it wisely._

_ The things Merlin believes are the thing__s__ the Druids believe._

_ Morgana believes none of these things._

_ Have I turned my back on our kind by becoming a knight of Camelot? Or is my presence here_ _helping our kind?_

_ Things are already ch__anging. __ I __hav__e seen it with my own eyes. I have experienced it._

_Morgana is wron_g.

_ Kara... Kara is wrong_.

_ Kara. My Kara, my heart, to whom I am forever bonded. How can I go against her? _Hesitantly, Mordred reaches out and places his fingertips over her heart, gently, and the pain Kara is feeling surges into him. It's almost a physical sensation, and he jerks his hand away with a gasp. He gazes into her eyes, shocked. A tear slips from her eye, and he slowly returns his hand, closing his eyes, preparing to experience her pain. _Hurt. Betrayal. Fear._ They wash over him, and he almost breaks. He almost takes her hand and absconds with her into the night, turning his back on his new friends, his new life, on those to whom he has pledged his loyalty. Then, beneath those emotions, he feels something unexpected. _Anger. Hatred. Bitterness._ He feels another swell of magic and a torch on the wall flares large and bright for a moment before he can tamp it down.

When Mordred opens his eyes, he sees Kara with new ones. He looks at his intended with the eyes of a man, not a lovestruck boy.

_ Is this my Kara? I have never felt such... darkness... in her be__fo__re__. A__nd, her words... she sounds like she's _Morgana's_ Kara right now. Her mind has been poisoned by the witch. It is _Kara_ who has turned her back on our kind, not me._

He is able to see the hurt in her eyes. The fear. Fear he_ know__s_ Morgana put there. He looks down at himself, arrayed in armor and his red cloak, at the Pendragon crest on his shoulder.

_ The king knows about my magic. He knows, and I'm still alive. He has allowed Merlin to use his magic for the good of the kingdom more than once since he had_ _learned of it. He is changing. He is a__ccepting magi__c and those who use it__._

_ M__erlin tells me magic will be allowed in Camelot once again, after Morgana is no longer a threat._

_ I believe __him._

Mordred blinks, gathers his resolve, and looks at Kara. "You believe the word of a crazed, power-hungry witch over... over mine? I'm still your Mordred, Kara, and I always will be. Listen to me when I tell you that Morgana is _wrong._ If anyone has turned their back on our kind, it's _her._ Morgana's heart has turned black with hatred. The king and queen are good people. They are… they're learning. Listening."

"Oh? What do you think will happen when your _precious_ King Arthur finds out that you have magic? He'll throw you—"

"He already knows," Mordred interrupts quietly.

Kara gapes at him. "What do you mean?"

"The king knows about my magic. I told him."

She doesn't know what to say. "Why did you tell him?" she finally asks.

"That, I cannot divulge right now," he answers. "But, he knows. And, here I stand, alive. Unscathed. Unpunished."

"I... I don't understand..." she whispers, her voice wavering. She blinks a few times, her mind clearly conflicted.

"Morgana is wrong. Arthur is _not_ Uther." Mordred moves his hands, holding her less like a prisoner and more like a lover. "Kara, you need to tell me everything. I'll take you to the king..."

"No!" she recoils, frightened.

"Kara... Sweeting... you know me. You know me better than anyone does. I'll speak on your behalf to the king. He is kind and good, I promise. I would not lie to you." He gently places his hands on either side of her face. "You _know _I would not lie to you," he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers.

Kara gasps a moment later, the bond she shares with Mordred allowing her to see that he speaks the truth. Understanding overwhelms her, tears start to fall from her eyes and she slumps against him.

"It'll be all right," he soothes, holding her. "Talk to me first. Tell me what Morgana has told you. Listen to me; listen to what I have to tell you about what is_ trul__y_ going on within these walls. If you decide to stay with us, with me, we will protect you. I will take care of you, and we can be together." He softly kisses her forehead. She looks down, shaking her head very slightly. Mordred sees her hesitation and almost falters again. _I don't want to lose her. But... there are too many consequences. I must..._ "Kara, please consider my offer. Stay here with us, in Camelot. You will be happy here. But, that can only happen if you talk to me. We need to talk to the king and queen." She looks up at him, her eyes wet with tears, still silent. He gently wipes her cheeks with his thumbs. _What if she refuses? Can I… can I choose Camelot – the king, the queen, Merlin – over her? Would I be able to bring her to Arthur as an unrepentant criminal?_

For a few seconds, Mordred listens to the beating of his heart, the beating of Kara's, then he makes his decision. Swallowing hard, his face growing stern as he looks into her eyes, he says the most difficult words he has ever spoken. "Kara, you must understand. If you decide your loyalty is still to Morgana, I will be forced to arrest you, you will be… imprisoned, and I cannot promise to save you. No matter how much I love you." He stops again and takes a deep breath, attempting to tamp down his conflicted emotions before something – a tapestry, flag, or drape – ignites. "It pains me to tell you this, but there is too much at stake," he adds, his voice breaking. "Please."

Kara says nothing for a long moment, thinking. She looks down again at her hands, running her fingertips along the cut on her thumb. Eventually, she nods and looks up. "I will stay here. I will talk to you." She sighs, her shoulders shuddering. "I... I want to be g—" she breaks off, crying fully.

Mordred sighs, relieved. He wraps his arms around her, blinking back his own tears as he gathers his thoughts, attempting to call upon his knights' training. "Kara, what message did you send Morgana just now?" he asks, pulling away slightly to look down at her.

Kara bites her lip and looks down. "I told her of Queen Guinevere's pregnancy," she softly admits, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I... I heard the curly-haired knight say something about it..."

_Oh, no._ Mordred's face darkens with worry as he looks at her. He removes her green cloak, wads it into a ball, and tucks it under his arm. "Come," he says, taking her hand and pulling her with him.

_MERLIN!_ He calls out with everything he has, walking at top speed towards Gaius' rooms.

"Mordred!" Kara gasps, practically running to keep up with Mordred's long, quick strides. "Where are we going?"

"The only place where you'll be safe right now," Mordred says.

_Mordred? Where are you? _Merlin's voice answers.

_Near our secret entrance. Where are you?_

_With Aithusa, trying to find out if she remembers any of Morgana's allies or followers. Mordred, I'm impressed! This is quite a distance you—_

_ Merlin, please! This is very important._

"Your quarters?" Kara asks.

"No. Please, Kara, I need to concentrate. I'm trying to contact someone," he hushes her as gently as he can, despite the panic he is feeling. He turns his thoughts back to Merlin. _A raven has just been sent to the Lady Morgana bearing news of the child. Can it be intercepted?_

_ What? How?_ Mordred can feel Merlin's bewilderment and concern wrapping around him like a cold shroud.

_I'll explain when I see you. Can you intercept the raven?_

Mordred pauses at the end of a corridor, checking to see if it is empty while he waits for Merlin's reply. "Clear," he whispers to Kara, hauling her along behind him once again.

_I've sent Aithusa. She will be able to find and stop it._ Merlin's confirmation makes Mordred feel a little better, especially because he said "will" and not "should". He pounds on the door to Gaius' rooms.

_Thank the gods. I'm about to enter_ _Gaius' rooms. Will you meet me her__e__ as soon as possible?_

_ I'm on my way. Mordred, what is going on?_

Mordred sighs. _I have the assassin._

"Mordred!" a tired-looking Gaius exclaims. "Who is this?"

xXx

Merlin arrives in a surprisingly short amount of time, causing everyone to jump when he bursts into Gaius' quarters. He stops in his tracks when he sees the young Druid girl sitting in a wooden chair, drinking some water. Her face is tear-streaked and her eyes are red.

"Morgana sent you," Merlin says. "I can sense her influence on you." As the girl looks down at her lap, Merlin's eyes flash for just a moment. No one sees it except Gaius, who raises an eyebrow.

"Merlin," Mordred says, "this is Kara. She's from my camp. She and I… that is… we…" he trails off, blushing.

"I see," Merlin says, understanding. He walks over to Kara and crouches beside her. "Look at me," he says. Slowly, she turns her face and he looks into her eyes for a long moment. Then, he places his hand on her forehead and closes his eyes.

"She's not enchanted," Mordred softly says. "Just… terribly misled."

Merlin drops his hand from Kara's forehead and looks at Mordred. "One can never be too careful." He pulls up a chair and sits facing her. She flinches at his sudden motion, and he softens a little. "I'm not going to hurt you," he states in a gentler tone. "My name is Merlin."

"H-hello," she says, peeking up at him for a second before dropping her gaze again.

"Gwaine brought this," Gaius volunteers, offering the wrapped dagger.

"Thank you," Merlin says, taking it. He unwraps it on his lap without touching it. He can see the reddish-brown stain left on the white linen of the napkin near the handle as well as remnants of blood on the weapon. "Hmm." He looks at Kara. "Let me see your hand."

Merlin's voice remains gentle, but his tone clearly suggests he is not one with whom to be trifled. Kara holds out her hand, and he sees the cut on the thick pad of her palm below her thumb.

"Merlin, she's already confessed," Mordred says. "There's no need."

"I understand that," Merlin says. "But, we must be prepared if she changes her mind when brought before the king and queen."

Mordred frowns, but nods.

"You have something to say?" Merlin asks.

Mordred presses his lips together, thinking. He's not accustomed to this side of Merlin. This Merlin is a stern, serious man, someone not to be crossed. Even during his lessons, Merlin is his usual affable self. He takes his responsibility seriously, but Mordred has never felt this uneasy in his presence before. Suddenly, he realizes he truly is in the presence of a very great man._ This is Emry_s.

"Speak your mind, please," Merlin prompts when he sees Mordred's hesitation. "You know you are safe with me."

"I would like to speak on Kara's behalf to the king and queen," Mordred says. "Kara... she's not a killer. She was poisoned by Morgana's words. Not enchanted, as I said, just... misguided."

Kara looks up at Mordred, slightly wounded at his words.

"I'm sorry, Kara, but it is the truth." He turns his attention back to Merlin. "When our camp was ambushed and we had to scatter... we were all lost. Confused. I lost track of her in the chaos. I fell in with the bounty hunters with whom you met me earlier this year, keeping my head down and my mouth closed to survive. Others blended into villages. Still others... like Kara... were not so lucky. Wandering, homeless. She..."

"I'd like to tell him," Kara softly interjects, looking at Mordred.

"Please," Merlin says. "I'd rather hear it from you, actually."

"Mordred is right, sir. I was lost and homeless." Her voice is soft and halting. "Everywhere I looked for help, I was turned away. Occasionally, someone would give me a bite to eat, but people were afraid to take me in. I was alone. So alone." She sniffles. "My magic isn't even that strong," she adds, as an afterthought.

"Tell him what happened," Mordred prompts. "In the forest."

"Bandits," she whispers. "They tried to rob me. And, when they found out I had no money... they... they tried to take..." she breaks off, looking down again as her tears fall afresh.

"Yes," Merlin says. She doesn't need to explain. "Morgana rescued you?"

Kara nods, not looking up. "She did. She killed the bandits and took me in. She was so fearless. She told me she was not afraid of anyone or anything, and I should not be afraid of anything, either. She told me she was my only friend. She... she told me so many things. I realize now she _did_ want me to be afraid of one thing, and it was her. I realize now not all of the things she told me were true. They were mostly lies."

"How did you come to this realization?" Merlin asks.

"My Mordred showed me," she says, looking up at the young knight. "He... he told me the king knows about his magic and he was not put to death. He told me things are changing here. That Morgana is wrong; she doesn't know what is actually happening in Camelot. Morgana said this is a place full of cruelty and ignorance. She told me the king is a stubborn fool who is on the path to being the same narrow-minded tyrant as his father." She looks down at her hands again.

"What makes you believe Mordred's words over Morgana's?"

"Well, I have known Mordred since we were children. And... he... he _showed_ me, sir." She looks up at Merlin. She knows he isn't a noble, but he has a quality that compels her to address him respectfully. "I... I cannot explain it. We... we are bonded as... partners. He can share things with me without using words."

"It's similar to how you and I can communicate without speaking," Mordred explains. "Except with Kara, I don't have to use words at all. It's pure feeling. Truth. It's, um, a bit intimate..." he trails off, blushing.

Merlin nods. "I understand. Are you able to demonstrate this? I don't need you to do it now, but should Arthur require a demonstration..."

"Yes," Mordred immediately answers. "This is how I knew she wasn't enchanted, actually. I was able to reach her. I remembered what happened with the queen's enchantment, how the king had to speak to her heart. So, that is what I did. I daresay I had an easier time of it than the king."

"You are fortunate," Merlin says.

"Sir," Kara speaks up again. "Morgana convinced me that King Arthur is an enemy of magic users. She... she made me feel as though I was a traitor to my kind if I _didn't_ come here and..." she trails off a moment, wiping her eyes. "She would berate me if I showed any hesitation or vulnerability... she promised I would be her lady-in-waiting when she was on the throne." She sniffles and bows her head again, ashamed. "I was wooed by her words, and... and bullied by them as well." She lifts her head and looks at Merlin, straight into his unsettlingly bright blue eyes. "I am so sorry, sir. I cannot express the shame I feel... now that I know how wrong I was. How wrong Morgana is."

The sound of knights running past the doors causes them all to pause a moment.

"Merlin, perhaps you should alert Sir Leon and have him call off the search. It will be dawn soon," Gaius quietly recommends.

"Right," Merlin goes to the door and speaks to the first knight he sees, asking him to send for Leon. As he closes the door, something taps on one of the windows.

"What on earth?" Gaius says, confused. "We are in a tower..."

Merlin is already jogging over to the window and opening it. A lifeless black bird, slightly charred and still smoking, is tossed in, followed by a chirp that sounds like Aithusa is quite proud of herself. "Thank you, Aithusa," Merlin says, smiling warmly out the window. "You have done a very good thing tonight." There's another chirp followed by a great _whoosh_, and Merlin closes the window. He bends and picks up the dead raven. "I thought she'd eat it, actually," he absently mutters, walking back over to Kara and Mordred.

"That is the raven I sent," Kara immediately confirms. "Morgana's ravens all have the same type of bracelet." She points to a small band around the bird's leg, made of blackened silver.

Merlin tosses it on the bench beside the knife.

"Merlin..." Gaius admonishes. "That is a dead bird. I treat patients on that bench."

"Sorry," Merlin says, picking it up again. "Hand me that basket," he says to Mordred. The knight passes him the basket and Merlin drops the bird inside.

Kara puzzles at Merlin, unable to understand this young man who one minute has the imposing and serious nature of a much older man and the next is relaxed and youthful. _Morgana never mentioned him. I wonder if she knew him?_ "Sir?"

"Yes?" Merlin turns.

"May I ask a question?"

"Yes."

"Did Morgana know you? She never mentioned your name," Kara asks.

"She knew me," Merlin says. "But, she only knew me as Arthur's servant, and that is the way it shall remain," he pointedly adds, turning serious again.

"I... I understand," Kara says. Suddenly, she realizes the choice Mordred has given her is exactly as he said. _Either I stay here with them, join them, or I will be executed. They will not allow me to leave and risk my telling Morgana what I have learned here. Morgana told me they were fools. Cruel. Uncaring, unfeeling. Especially when it comes to people with magic._

_ But, I have been treated with kindness. Merlin is stern, and I can tell he is not to be crossed, but I can also see great kindness and compassion in him. The old man, Gaius, is wise and gentle. Mordred is happy here. I can see his happine__ss__ among these people._

_ Mordred has assured me that the king and queen __are__ good. Understanding and open, not ignorant and merciless._

Again, Kara looks at Merlin, into his eyes, and sees his goodness and light shining through. It is nothing like the shuttered windows of Lady Morgana's eyes. She looks over at Mordred. He gives her a sweet smile of encouragement, silently letting her know everything will be all right.

She looks down again, her stomach tightening into a knot. _I feel like such a fool. Allowing myself to be so misle__d by__ her._

There is a sharp knock on the door, and Merlin goes to answer it. "Sir Leon, come in, please," Merlin invites him in, closing the door behind him.

"Sir Edwin said it was urgent," Leon says, clearly anxious to return to his duties.

"You can call off the search. We have the assassin," Merlin says.

"Where?" The First Knight of Camelot looks around the room. His eyes land on the only person he does not recognize. "Surely not this girl," he gestures to Kara. Merlin nods. "Why is she just sitting there? Why is she not restrained?" he asks, scowling.

"She is," Merlin firmly says. Kara tries to move in her seat, only to find herself stuck fast to the wooden chair. She looks up at Merlin, eyes wide. Merlin simply nods.

"She should be taken to the dungeons immediately," Leon says. He starts to walk towards her, and Merlin boldly places his hand on the knight's arm to stop him.

"Wait. She is not completely responsible for her actions," Merlin says. "We should bring her before the king and queen and let them hear what she has to say."

"She tried to kill the king," Leon presses.

"She was acting under duress," Merlin counters.

"Sir Leon, please," Mordred says. "I know this girl. She is from my camp."

Leon looks at Mordred, at the young knight's hand on the girl's shoulder. He raises an eyebrow, but simply says, "I will call off the search. _You_ can wake the king and queen," he tells Merlin, spinning on his heel and leaving.

"I'd wager what little money I have that Arthur is _not_ sleeping," Merlin says.

xXx

Arthur was not sleeping. In fact, he was wide awake and seemed almost happy to see Merlin.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed quietly, conscious of his sleeping wife. "Please tell me you have good news."

"Sort of," Merlin says. "We have the assassin..."

"Why is that only 'sort of' good news?"

"There's a complication. She's in Gaius' rooms now – don't worry, she cannot go anywhere – and, well..."

"Out with it, Merlin," Arthur says, growing impatient.

"You need to hear what she has to say," Merlin says.

"She'll be given a trial," Arthur declares, as though it should be obvious.

"She doesn't need a trial. She's confessed. She needs protection."

"What?"

"She wasn't enchanted by Morgana, but was definitely under her thumb. Just... just trust me, Arthur. She's only a girl."

Arthur sighs and walks away, thinking. "She tried to kill me. But, if Morgana somehow forced her to..." He leans against the windowsill, looking out at the courtyard through the colored glass panels, watching the blurred shapes of people walking about in the dim light of the early dawn, getting ready to begin the day. "Fetch Ella, please. We will see you in the throne room in an hour," he finally says, barely turning his head to talk over his shoulder.

"Thank you," Merlin says. "Did you sleep at all, Arthur?" he asks, his hand on the door handle.

Arthur turns around and looks at him. "Does it _look_ like I've slept?" he sarcastically asks.

Merlin snorts a short laugh. "Well, at least change your clothes," he says. "I can send up George."

"No!" Arthur answers too quickly. "No, I'll be fine."

"Even so, I'll have some food sent up. You may have no appetite, but Gwen needs to eat," Merlin says. Then, he disappears.

Arthur puts the bolt back into place and stares at it. After a moment, he walks through the closed curtains to the sleeping chamber, takes a second to gaze down at his sleeping Guinevere, then drops a kiss on her cheek.

"Guinevere," he quietly says. "Ella is on her way up, Love."

Guinevere scrunches tighter under the covers for a moment, then blinks her eyes open. "Hmm?"

"Ella is on her way up. The assassin has been caught, and we're expected in the throne room in an hour," Arthur says, sitting beside her on the bed now. He reaches down and strokes her hair.

"A trial already?" she asks sleepily. She stretches, then sits up and leans against Arthur's shoulder.

"Not a trial. She wishes to speak to us."

"She? The assassin is a woman?" Guinevere asks.

Arthur sighs. "According to Merlin, she's little more than a girl."

"Morgana," she sadly sighs.

"Yes," Arthur agrees.

xXx

"You know this girl, Sir Mordred?" Arthur asks, looking down at the young knight. He is standing on one side of Kara, Merlin is on the other. Kara is looking at her feet.

"Yes, Sire, we were in the same Druid camp. I have known her nearly eight years."

"How old are you, Kara?" Guinevere softly asks.

"Sixteen, my lady," a visibly trembling Kara answers, her voice is almost a whisper as she risks a peek at the queen.

Guinevere looks over at Arthur, who nods. _The girl may be more willing to speak to Guinevere right now._

"Will you tell us how you came to be in the Lady Morgana's company?"

Kara slowly lifts her eyes to Guinevere again, looking longer this time. She immediately can tell that the beautiful queen is a kind and gentle soul, wise and understanding. Sympathy pours from her, genuine sympathy brought forth by her past as a servant. Kara then peeks at the king and feels such shame over what she attempted that she immediately drops her eyes again. "Yes, my lady," she answers.

She haltingly tells them everything she's told Merlin and Mordred. She speaks quietly, but her voice carries easily in the silence of the throne room. Leon, Gwaine, and Percival are also present, but no one utters a word.

"...I had no choice. I see that now," Kara finishes. "She surely would have killed me had I refused. Or she would have used her magic to force me..."

"I understand completely," Guinevere answers. "As should Merlin," she nods at her husband's servant. "Both he and I have been victims of Morgana's enchantments." She looks at Arthur. "Her treatment of this girl sounds very similar to what Morgana did to me in the tower, remember?" she quietly notes. "The threats and pain alternating with affection and promises?" Arthur solemnly nods his head, remembering his wife's vivid description of the horrific treatment she endured at the hands of his sister. _No._ He reminds himself. _Not my sister. No longer._ His hand involuntarily clenches. He glances at his wife and Guinevere sees the storm gathering in her husband's eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turns her attention to Kara. "Did Lady Morgana make use of any... roots dripping with a black substance while you were in her care?"

"No, my lady. There were no mandrake roots. I have heard tales of the enchantment of which you speak. It is horrible and I would not wish it on anyone," Kara softly says.

"Indeed," Guinevere says, not elaborating.

"Kara was not enchanted," Merlin volunteers. "Mordred and I can both confirm this."

"I... I allowed myself to be swayed from the things I knew to be true. From the values my parents taught me. They would be so ashamed... _I'm_ so ashamed..." she trails off, unable to speak through her tears. She takes a deep breath and summons the will to look at Arthur. "I am so sorry, my lord. I cannot express my remorse over what I attempted." She is surprised when she sees concern in his eyes, but no hatred or malice.

"Why was there blood on the dagger's handle?" Arthur asks. He's been puzzling over this detail, wondering about the significance, if any, of the blood on the weapon.

Kara holds up her hand, showing him the cut. "It slipped when I pulled it out to throw," she explains.

"The dagger wasn't enchanted, if that's what you're wondering," Merlin explains. "This isn't a case where the weapon needed some of her blood to complete a spell."

"So, Morgana sent a girl who gets so nervous she injures herself while trying to kill me," Arthur muses. He looks at Merlin. "She's getting sloppy."

"I had the same thought," Merlin nods.

"That's troubling. If she's so flustered that she resorts to such measures..."

"Well, we did take Aithusa away from her. And, Mordred refused to join her," Merlin points out.

Kara gasps slightly, surprised. She knew Morgana was very upset over her little dragon, and, truthfully, Kara rather liked the creature as well. She didn't know Mordred had encountered Morgana recently.

"She did not tell you," Mordred says, looking down at Kara. "To keep your loyalty, she did not tell you she had seen me. She has seen me twice, in fact. Both times she attempted to woo me to join her, and both times I refused. She was well aware of my presence here, Kara. And, she was well aware that if you knew where I was, you would leave her without a second thought." He pauses, suddenly unsure. "Wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would have!" Kara says, gripping his hand. Then, remembering herself, she drops it again. "Forgive me, Sire."

Arthur nods once, still mulling over all he has been told. "You appear to have seen the error of your ways, Kara," he says at length. "How are we to know you won't escape and go running back to Morgana?"

"I know my word means nothing right now, Sire, but it is all I have," Kara answers, forcing herself to look at him so he knows she is in earnest. "I know I was wrong, and I promise to change my ways."

"I will take responsibility for her, my lord," Mordred says. "It... it is my place to do so."

"Are the two of you betrothed?" Guinevere asks.

"We are promised to one another," Mordred explains. "We... we chose one another three years ago, and have been blessed by Iseldir, our clan leader. We will be betrothed next year when I am 18, my lady."

"Is it usual to do this at such a young age?" she asks.

"It can be done at any age, my lady, but usually no younger than 13," Mordred explains. "When one knows, one knows. As I believe you are aware."

Guinevere smiles and nods. She looks to Arthur, still looking pensive on his throne.

"Kara, while I forgive you, I cannot let your deed go unpunished." He pauses, and Kara nods in understanding. "However, I recognize the need to keep you away from Morgana, for the safety of all of us."

"Thank you, Sire," she whispers.

He looks at Guinevere a long moment, then leans towards her. The two sovereigns whisper quietly for a short time, then straighten up again.

"Merlin," he calls, beckoning with his hand.

Merlin walks forward and briefly confers with Arthur. The servant nods a few times, then returns to stand beside Kara.

"Kara, you have confessed to the crime of attempted assassination. You have shown remorse and have promised to turn your back on Morgana. However, in the interest of everyone's well-being, you will be kept under lock and key until any and all possible repercussions have passed."

Kara nods, pursing her lips and looking down. She wipes away a tear.

"We won't be putting you in the dungeons," Arthur continues.

"Thank you, Sire," Kara whispers, a relieved sob escaping.

"You will remain in the guest room nearest Gaius' chambers, under guard." Arthur's eyes land meaningfully on Merlin, who nods almost imperceptibly. "You will be fed and given clothes, and will be treated as a guest apart from the fact that you will be locked in_._ No one will be allowed into your room except myself, Queen Guinevere, and Merlin."

Mordred opens his mouth to protest, but quickly closes it.

"Sir Mordred may visit you if Merlin is present as well," Arthur explains, noting the young man's demeanor. "We trust you, Mordred, but your deep feelings for Kara prevent you from having the proper objectivity."

Mordred nods. _As long as I get to see her._ "You are right, Sire," he allows, fully aware the king knows about his difficulty controlling his feelings.

"The queen's maid will attend you when required," Arthur continues, "accompanied by the queen and Merlin, of course. The queen's bodyguard, Sir Percival, will be posted outside while the queen is in your room."

Percival nods once in acknowledgment.

"If you wish to use this time for study, we can provide you with books. I have a large collection of volumes on herbology in which you might be interested," Guinevere suggests.

"Thank you, my lady," Kara answers.

"Is there any other topic you would like to study?"

Kara shyly looks down. "I was studying the healing arts before our camp was attacked, my lady. I should like to continue, if you please."

Guinevere smiles. "I think this can be arranged," she says, nodding. "Merlin, once Kara is settled, please bring her some food and have Ella help you gather some clean clothes and a basin of water." She turns her gaze back to Kara. "If you wish for a proper bath, one will be brought to you later."

"Thank you, my lady. You have shown me more kindness than I deserve," Kara whispers, humbled at the king and queen's merciful treatment of her.

Guinevere grants her a sad smile, then looks at Arthur. He reaches over and gently takes her hand.

"Sir Gwaine, will you join Merlin and Sir Mordred in escorting our guest to her new quarters?" Arthur calls.

Gwaine nods and steps forward, joining the three others as they walk from the throne room.

"Sire," Leon steps forward. "That girl is a Druid, and Morgana is a High Priestess. Are you certain locking her in a room is going to be sufficient protection?"

"I am quite certain it is very adequate protection," Arthur answers. "Merlin will ensure it."

"Oh, I see. He's going to do something to her room," Leon nods, understanding.

"I figured it was safer for everyone if she didn't know," Arthur explains.

"Arthur," Guinevere says, turning to look at him, "how long do you think it will be before Morgana misses her?"

xXx

That night, Arthur clears his throat in the way that suggests he has something to say which is not exactly comfortable for him.

"Sire?" Merlin asks, gathering the king's laundry. Guinevere and Ella are quietly talking behind the privacy screen as the queen prepares for bed.

"Um, your dragon... Aithusa, is that her name?"

"Yes," Merlin says. "What of her?"

"She really snatched a raven in flight, in the middle of the night, for you?" Arthur asks.

"Yes. I didn't even have to command her. She was quite willing to help. I think... I think she wanted to prove herself to me. And, to you," Merlin answers, setting the basket of laundry on the table.

"Truly?"

Merlin nods. "She was trying to tell me something before Mordred, um, contacted me with the news he had the assassin. We've been attempting to work out some form of communication. I mean, she can understand me, but cannot speak… and writing is not an option... so..."

"Merlin," Arthur says, bringing the servant's thoughts back into focus.

"Right. But, I wonder if she was trying to tell me about Kara. I shall have to ask her. We have 'yes' and 'no' pretty well sorted," Merlin says.

"When you do... I... I'd like to reward her for her help in some way. Does she have any favorite... treats?" Arthur asks, furrowing his brows. Guinevere, having already dismissed Ella for the night, emerges in her nightdress, hair braided, and comes over to stand by her husband. He automatically puts his arm around her and kisses her forehead. "What does she eat, exactly? Or, is there something else she might like?"

"Chickens are her favorite," Merlin says. "The fresher, the better. Actually, alive would be best, if possible..."

Guinevere makes a slight face.

"Oh, is that all?" Arthur asks. "Take five or six, then. And tell her thank you. From both of us." He looks over at Guinevere, who nods.

"I think three will be sufficient, and I will," Merlin nods, smiling. "She will be very happy with the gift and the thanks."

"Well, were it not for her, Morgana would be on her way here with murderous intentions," Arthur says. "She has our gratitude."

Merlin nods. "I'll take them to her in the morning," he says. "Kara has been no trouble, by the way. She seems... relieved."

"Good. You've seen to it that she _will_ be no trouble?" Arthur confirms.

"Of course. Her room is guarded by my magic so that only you or I can open the doors. And, her magic is bound while she's in her room, so she won't be able to do anything."

Arthur nods approvingly. _I hadn't thought of such a__ possibility._ "Impressive. Thank you, Merlin."

Merlin picks up the laundry basket. "Just doing my duty, Sire," he says, nods at them, and exits.

Arthur wraps his arms around Guinevere, pulling her into a tight hug. "Hmm. There _is_ a little more to you, isn't there?" he asks, grinning into her hair.

"Oh!" she exclaims, shoving ineffectively at him, but she cannot stop the giggles from coming forth.

"I can only tell because I know your delectable little body so well, my Love," he says, sliding his hand down to give her backside a playful squeeze.

"You need sleep," she declares, removing his hand from her bum and using it to lead him to bed.

"Why, because I'm teasing you?" he asks, freeing his hand to slide around her middle, splaying his fingers over her stomach, which is just a bit bigger.

"No, because you didn't sleep at all last night. And you're behaving like a giddy child, which you do when you're overtired," she says, squirming out of his grasp and climbing into bed, still chuckling a little despite her best efforts.

Arthur makes a disgruntled noise but slips into bed and pulls her into his arms. "I love you," he tenderly says, tilting her chin up and kissing her softly, but thoroughly.

"I love you, too," she answers, setting her head back on his shoulder. A moment later, she remembers something that occurred to her in the throne room this morning when she heard Kara's story. "Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"I think this was Mordred's test. You know, the one Merlin told you about," she says, lifting her head again to look at him.

"You think?" he asks.

"Well, after hearing Kara's tale, and Mordred's, how he convinced her to turn her back on Morgana…" Guinevere says. Once Kara had gotten settled in her room, Arthur summoned Mordred back to ask him for more details about how he found her and what happened. "He was clearly conflicted because of his feelings for Kara, but chose to bring her to our side instead of allowing himself to be blinded by his love for her. He could have easily gone back with her to Morgana simply because of that."

"You are right," Arthur nods. "He is very young and his feelings are a weak spot for him; we know this."

"Says the man who was going to renounce his claim to the throne over a girl," she gently reminds him.

"Yes, well, that girl didn't let me do it, anyway," he says, waving his hand dismissively, a grin on his face. His grin turns sweet and wistful as he looks down at her. "I still would, you know," he softly adds, kissing her forehead.

Guinevere smiles back at him, then leans up to kiss his lips. "I think you and Mordred are more alike than you may realize," she says. "And I mean that in a good way, of course."

"Of course," he agrees. "Well, if this was his test, and I think you are right about that, he seems to have passed it. I think we'll still need to keep an eye on him in regards to Kara. Just to be on the safe side."

"It certainly is wise not to allow Mordred unchaperoned visits with her," Guinevere says, snuggling against Arthur.

"Hmm," Arthur thoughtfully responds. "I'll mention it to Merlin tomorrow, to see what he thinks."

Guinevere closes her eyes. "Merlin has really proven himself indispensable in many ways, hasn't he?" she asks sleepily.

"Yes…" Arthur agrees, furrowing his brows, "indeed he has…"


End file.
